


Going Home

by Schiriki



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-05-26 18:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 75,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15006434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schiriki/pseuds/Schiriki
Summary: This story is about family, friendship and love (nothing smutty). In the beginning it will mostly follow Arya and later Gendry as well; some occasional Sansa chapters will tell what happens to the rest of the Starks. Arya's storyline differs not too much from canon (books & show), the storylines of the other Stark children will probably go wildly astray.It all starts with a Flea Bottom orphan boy, he is fleeing from the capital, hunted by the people who had murdered everyone he knew there, including his father. Memories of a different life, before all hell broke loose, are hidden away somewhere deep down in Arry's heart. But for how long can he keep them locked away? Though, resurfacing memories aren't his only problem. There are his all but trustworthy travel companions; bastards, just not the kind of bastard he had known, back then in his different life. But there is also that stupid bull who suddenly keeps following him around like a shadow. Is he just too stupid to get that Arry wants to be left alone? Or what is that one really up to?





	1. A Way Out

**Author's Note:**

> This work is based (very very loosely) on “A Song of Ice and Fire” by George R. R. Martin and the HBO series “Game of Thrones” and I don't own the storylines or characters.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arry leaves King's Landing with Yoren and his Night's Watch recruits, still in shock about what happened to him in the capital. Lommy and Hot Pie pick on him. Arry beats up Hot Pie until 'the Bull' intervenes and later introduces himself to Arry.

Arry left King’s Landing as one of several orphan boys from Flea Bottom. Yoren the old Crow had convinced them to leave the capital for a life of service in the Night’s Watch. Warm beds and hot meals would await them there, he had said … there, up north at the Wall. What more convincing should orphans need to leave their lives as gutter rats in this horrible city behind. And so they rode their donkeys through the city gate and none of them had a reason to look back.

Especially not Arry who had lost everything in this dreadful lion’s den. First they took his friends Nymeria and Mycah away from him, before he had even entered King’s Landing for the first time. That loss had made it even harder to accustom to this place. It took him almost half a year to get used to the heat, the awful smells and its backstabbing deceiving people.

And then after a year when he finally started to like _something_ about his new life in the capital all hell broke loose. All of a sudden the city had turned against him. He still didn’t know what had happened and why those monsters had one good day decided to butcher all and everyone he knew. No one, except him, escaped the massacre. Shadows, cellars and sewers had shielded him from the preying eyes of those who hunted him. He had tried to get out of the city but it was impossible, there was no way out. They were looking for him everywhere, except in that shithole they called Flea Bottom. So there it was where he hid for weeks. In Flea Bottom were different monsters trying to harm him, but those he could manage and hold at bay with his small blade.

He must have still been in shock, he still had hoped this all had to be just a nightmare, that he just hadn’t woken up from, yet. Then literally the whole city called for his father’s head … while he stood helpless amidst the blood lusting crowds in front of the Great Sept of Baelor to witness it. That was where Yoren had found him and kept him from seeing it. The Black Brother of the Night’s Watch may have prevented the picture of his father’s beheading entering his memory but not the sounds … this awful expecting silence right before the sword came down, then that short odd _noise_ … followed by the crowds cheering. There and then the orphan boy Arry had been born. Before that he had had a family. And friends. A different life.

Now he was heading north on the Kingsroad amongst thirty other Night’s Watch recruits, that had been his way out. Finally. _North. That is as far away from this dreadful place as possible,_ Arry thought. North is where he wanted to be. The others, boys and men soon started to get to know each other, except for three men in a cage. No one was to go near those, Yoren had said. He had found them in the Black Cells under the Red Keep, he hadn’t had to say more to make the rest of the recruits stay away from them.

Arry stayed away from everyone, not just the three in the cage. He kept to himself, Yoren had told him to. It was easy to follow that order, since he preferred to be alone anyway. He didn’t feel like making new friends. He had had friends. And they all were taken from him, so why make new ones? So those could be taken away from him as well? Or so he would forget the old ones? _Never!_ No, he wouldn’t forget any of them or what had been done to them! _Never_. He swore to the Old Gods and the New.

The others probably thought Arry kept to himself because he was shy, since he was the youngest and smallest of the recruits. So soon two of the Flea Bottom street rats thought Arry to be an easy target to pick on. The skinny one was called Lommy Greenhands because he had mottled green arms from being a dyer’s apprentice before he had been caught stealing. The fat one was called Hot Pie. He had been a baker’s boy, he got his odd name because he had helped his mother selling hot pies from a cart until she had died. Lommy never picked on Arry directly, he only told Hot Pie to do so whenever he had come up with a new reason. He only dared to call Arry names like _lumpyhead_ from afar. _Bloody coward_. They both thought themselves to be so clever. When they laid their greedy eyes on Arry’s blade and Lommy instructed Hot Pie to get it, they made a mistake. A big one. One they would regret. That blade had been a gift from _Jon_. So Arry would rather die than give it up without a fight. It was the only thing he had left from his old life.

Hot Pie rode up beside Arry and tried to make him hand over the blade. Lommy called insulting names from behind. _As if that would scare him_. Hot Pie told a made-up story about how he had kicked a boy to death and threatened to do the same to Arry. In his old life he would have just laughed out loud and called the boy a liar. Now he just stayed silent and pretended to ignore them both. Until Hot Pie got bold enough to reach for the blade. _Idiot_. While Hot Pie aimed to snatch the blade from its scabbard on Arry’s belt he didn’t see the wooden training sword coming down on his arm. It hit him so hard he fell off his donkey. Arry got off his own and held the wooden sword to the boy’s neck, “You are a liar and a coward. _You_ didn’t kill anyone. _But I did_. With _this_ blade. A fat boy like you it was. I think I like killing fat boys with it. So you better stay away from me … the both of you!” he yelled looking back to Lommy. “Watch out! Behind you!” an older boy shouted who had ridden up behind Lommy. ‘The Bull’ the other boys called that one. Arry turned around to see Hot Pie had a stone in his hand and tried to get up. So he hit him again with the training sword and again. Arry didn’t hear Hot Pie screaming, “I yield! YIELD! YIELD!” He didn’t stop until someone bigger grabbed him and his wooden sword from behind and said, “He had enough. Look, he pissed himself.” It was the Bull, “They won’t bother you again. Or else _I’ll_ hit them. _Both_.” Lommy seemed to piss himself, too. Arry just couldn’t say if it was because of what he had done to Hot Pie or the Bull’s threat. Probably the latter. Since he was taller and looked stronger than most boys his age. He must have been a few years older than Arry and maybe a bit older than these two idiots as well _. He could scare away grown men just by looking at them_ , Arry thought, calming down slowly.

Then Yoren was there and wanted to know what _the fuck_ was going on. Only then Arry noticed that the whole column had stopped. And of course _now_ Lommy, that shitty coward, had found his voice again and accused him of attacking Hot Pie like a wild animal for no reason. “That’s a _lie!_ The two of you were picking on the little one since we rode through the city gate. And just now you found the courage to try to steal his sword. He defended himself. That’s all,” the Bull countered. “Is that so?” Yoren asked, staring down each of them. Arry stayed silent. The two cowards flinched and mumbled something like _sorry_. So Yoren told them to ride closer to the front of the column where he could keep them safe from any further animal attacks. He then grabbed Arry by the arm and pulled him away from the others. “I told you to keep to yourself and stay out of trouble. Or else I can’t keep you safe. I can’t have you by my side all the time. That would raise suspicion. We don’t want that, don’t we?” Yoren told him before they both returned to the others and the column started moving again. North. Every inch further away from King’s Landing was a blessing.

“Name’s Gendry,” the Bull said after he had been riding a while in silence next to Arry. He had kept mostly to himself, too. He hadn't seemed interested in befriending other recruits before. At least Arry had never seen him talking to others. _So why now? And why me?_ Arry wondered. He didn’t respond, though. Yoren had told him to stick to himself and so he would. _No friends meant no one could hurt him. Ever again. End of story._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to leave comments, please feel free. Any constructive criticism is welcome. Though you should know, this is my first fanfiction ever and my first try on writing something fictional as well. If that would not be bad enough, English is not my first language, so sometimes I am unsure about the grammar or I don’t find the right words to say what I had in mind. So please have mercy if I don't get it done right, I probably won't be able to improve my language or writing skills as fast as you might like.


	2. Dim-witted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arry tries to fly below the radar, eager to not draw attention to himself. But a certain 'Bull' just ignores his wishes to be left alone.

The further north they got the bumpier the Kingsroad seemed to get. One day Lommy had proclaimed his bones and muscles were so sore from riding he wouldn’t be able to climb back onto his donkey and that he would need a day of rest, obviously hoping for others to join him in his request. Arry kept on wondering how such a _whiner_ had survived for so long in Flea Bottom. He had been caught thieving. How come he didn’t understand how lucky he was that he still had both his hands to cling to his donkey’s reins?

Yoren had told Lommy to get his sorry ass onto that donkey of his right away or else he would be walking for the next three days. Ignorant as he was, Lommy had answered that he would gladly walk all the way up to the Wall, that anything would be better than having a stupid scrawny donkey under his arse. Yoren had just snorted, “Alright, princess. How about I give you a ride on a cart?” and just when Lommy’s eyes had lit up, Yoren had added, “How about that one over there? With the cage?” The boy’s face had gone pale as cream and he had climbed onto his donkey faster than Arry thought him able to _. In another life he would have bubbled over with laughter._

But this was his life now. Arry was a Night’s Watch recruit just like the men and boys around him. Yoren had told him his travel companions were bastards, but not the kind of _bastard_ he had known. If they would know the queen wanted him, half of them would turn him over for a pardon and a bit of silver and the other half would do the same, only they would rape him first. So the hardest part would be to not give anyone reasons to look more closely at him. _They wouldn’t find out. He would play his part. Before they would notice they would be in the North and he would be gone. Safe._

Though, Yoren had been wrong. The nights were the worst part. Though Arry was dog-tired from all day riding, every night he would lie awake trying not to think about … _King’s Landing_ , before he finally would doze off to sleep. It seemed to get harder to hold his grief and memories at bay and prevent them from overwhelming him. _He would be strong and he would get north_ , he told himself. However, come morning he would awake red-eyed and not a tear left to be shed. He made sure the others wouldn’t see. Every nightfall he would place his blanket on the outskirts of their camp, away from the others. Close the woods. So he could steal off in case of he had to make water … or _run_.

The men hadn’t given a damn about him since start. And since the incident with Hot Pie the other boys stayed away from him, too. Some of them apparently afraid of him. _Good. He would keep it that way._

If it weren’t for that _stupid_ _Bull_. Who somehow always seemed to find ways to stick around ever since he had pulled him off of Hot Pie. _What was that one up to?_ He didn’t need a Bull to stand up for him, he had proven that much. _Didn’t he?_ He could deal with any of them. Or so he liked to tell himself. _Fear cuts deeper than swords_ , he thought, remembering the kind voice which had told him that a long time ago. _Maybe he is dim-witted_ , Arry thought, since any halfway clever man would be able to read the signs, that he was _not_ interested … in _whatever_ that stupid Bull wanted from him.

By nightfall the Bull handed him a blanket, _one without holes_ , before he even had queued up to get one himself. He always was amongst the last ones to get their blankets or share of food, to not give anyone reason to _notice_ him. _Damn_. He couldn’t refuse taking the Bull’s blanket, not without drawing attention to himself. Arry was furious. It wasn’t like he needed that blanket, they still were in the Crownlands. He could easily stay away from the campfires, where most of them gathered as soon as they were lit. _Fools. What do they think how cold the North is?_ He wasn’t cold. _He was from …_ , he didn’t even dare to think it. _No one must know._

The Bull seemed to have taken it as some sort of invitation when Arry had accepted the blanket he had offered him. As he kept doing so ever since and his own blanket seemed to wander daily a bit closer to Arry’s, who only was more eager to stay away from that _stupid Bull_. It wasn’t long before the Bull would not only save one of the good blankets for Arry but also would get him a bowl of food every night, so he wouldn’t have to live on the leftovers anymore. _He hated it_. He had lost a bit of weight living in Flea Bottom, since it had taken him a while until he had known his way around there – where to sleep and hide or where to get food and clean water. But he had lost more weight now on the Kingsroad. He knew he would be getting even thinner if he would go on with staying all on his own. It made him mad to know that if he wouldn’t have to keep his head down, he could get better blankets and bigger rations of food himself. He was smaller and younger than the others, true, but he could still best them, Hot Pie was living proof of that. He hated being reliant on the Bull. _But that doesn’t mean I have to talk to him._

“You do know the Night’s Watch isn’t the Silent Sisters, right?” the Bull said, as if he had heard his thoughts. _Enough!_ He would rather starve than give that _stupid idiot_ the satisfaction that he was dependent on him, “Would you just _stop_ with … whatever this is!”  “So, you can speak! I started thinking I only imagined you yelling the other day,” the Bull teased. Arry was furious, struggling to keep his voice down, “You make me look _weak_!” he hissed. The Bull just snorted, “After what you did to that Hot Pie boy, no one thinks you weak, believe me!” he paused, “Unless you go on with this barely sleeping barely eating thing of yours.” _Was he pitying him? How dare he?_ Arry growled, “Save your pity for yourself! I don’t need you to look after me! I can take care of myself.” “Sure, you can. But the thing is, the Night’s Watch is all about looking after other people. Be it the people of Westeros or the Black Brother next to you. And we are Night’s Watch recruits now, so …,” the Bull laid a hand on Arry’s shoulder, apparently meant to comfort, but he only flinched. The Bull looked at him, worried. _Great, more stupid Bull pity_.

Arry stomped off to get that firewood they were about to gather, after one of the poachers had shot some game. And _he_ followed. _He really must be dim-witted_. But at least he kept his stupid mouth shut now. Back at camp the Bull brought Arry a blanket and a bowl of hot stew with an extra portion of meat and he gulped it down greedily. This night the Bull’s blanket lay only six feet away from his and when Arry didn’t make any attempts to move his, he could see a slight smile building on his face. “Doesn’t mean we’re friends now, _stupid!_ ” Arry was just tired of rebuffing him. _What good was it, when he so obviously was too blockheaded to get it_? The Bull chuckled and Arry had to throw a stick at him to make him stop.

The next morning they continued riding side by side and the day after Arry had even waited for the Bull to catch up, when he had helped fixing one of the carts that was about to lose its wheel. It was the day after that, when he had finally said, “Name’s Arry.” This time it was the Bull that didn’t respond, but when Arry looked over to him, to check if he had even heard it, he saw him grinning. His company wasn’t so bad after all. _As long as he keeps that mouth of his shut_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of liked it how the TV show did their first scene together: Gendry is seen in the background packing some stuff onto a cart, when Hot Pie and Lommy pick on Arya. He doesn’t even look at the ‘boys’ behind him. But then as soon as she speaks he seems to turn his head a bit. As if he had noticed her girly voice. From then on he pays attention to the quarrel and turns and helps her scare them off. 
> 
> Anyway, in my story he has found out she's a girl right after they left the city as well. So he stays close to her, to be there in case one of the scumbags would try ‘something’. This is not him feeling attracted to her. This is just him doing the right thing, because he is one of the good guys.


	3. A Boy Could Make a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Night's Watch recruits arrive at an inn and Yoren decides to stay for the night. Flashbacks explain how Arry had managed to keep his secret while travelling with thirty boys and men. At the inn he hears rumours about the Young Wolf and a certain she-wolf from hell and also makes first contact with Jaqen H'ghar. Gendry gets to hear the names 'Needle' an 'Jon' for the first time.

In the afternoon they had come across an inn and Yoren had decided they would stay there for the night. He had told Arry, he wanted to gather information about the situation in the Riverlands. During the past few days on the Kingsroad they had seen more and more folk heading south. First it had been mostly women and children and old men with some farm animals that quietly walked past them. But soon they had seen bigger groups, _as if whole villages were moving south_ and more often they had passed by armed folk carrying all kind of weapons; only a few had swords, most had carried pitchforks, clubs and sticks and had given their group hostile looks. Some had even shouted, “Fools!”, but none had stopped to explain themselves. Soon after they had seen the first graves next to the road, mounds of recently dug soil at more frequent intervals lined up besides the Kingsroad. _Something was wrong!_ At first Arry had thought it was only him feeling agitated, before he had noticed also Yoren and even the Bull, Gendry, seemed to get more uneasy and brooding.

But not all of the recruits seemed to wonder, if they were the only ones travelling north now. Some didn’t seem to know what the graves and armed folk meant. They cheered, when Yoren promised all of them hot meals and ale, not understanding why they had stopped here.

Yoren instructed their camp would be set up along the treeline close by the inn and announced they could use the inn’s bathhouse if they felt like it. Arry felt like it. Badly. He had never imagined he could long for a bath as bad as he did now. _His brothers would probably laugh about that_. They almost had to restrain him to keep him inside a bathtub when he was little. Back then he had wished he would never have to have another bath again. _Be careful what you wish for_ , he thought sullenly, knowing damn well, a bathhouse was no option for him.

Having Gendry now always at his side, shielding him against any advances from the others had made Arry’s life easier in many ways, like allowing him to act bolder and more open towards the other boys and men. But when it came to things like having a bath Gendry’s protection was of no use at all. In fact, concerning _those things_ Gendry’s watchfulness had actually complicated Arry’s life. _A lot_. On the road he couldn’t just sneak off into the woods to make water, he had to find excuses now. By nightfall at camp it was easier, but Arry still had to wait until Gendry had dozed off before he could go into the woods to change clothing and have a wash at some small brook or spring. So Arry followed a strict daily routine. Making water after Gendry had fallen asleep and again before Gendry would awake come sunrise and he would drink as little as possible during the day and instead drink more at camp.

Thankfully Yoren thought of those things. He had offered Arry a piece of soap while they both had kept watch the second night on the road, “Keep it hidden and use it canny, boy, ya don’t wanna smell of soap when the others hadn’t had a wash for days, understood?” Arry had only nodded then. But Yoren also made sure Arry had opportunities to be alone in the woods, he gave him tasks like gathering firewood or searching for wild berries, mushrooms and roots and the like whenever they would have a short midday rest or make camp for the night. Yoren mostly said things like, “Arry, you seem not too tired from the ride, so go on, make yourself useful and fetch us something to spice up that stew?” This way the others wouldn’t care, most of them were just glad they could finally rest and preferred to stay at camp anyway. So Arry and Gendry, who always offered to help him, were usually the only ones in the woods or fields around camp site. The poachers went further away from camp. So Arry’s only problem left was to sneak away from Gendry’s eyeshot for a little while. Somehow he always managed. Alone in the woods Gendry seemed okay with only having him within earshot. Arry had wondered why, but had come to the conclusion Gendry must think the woods a safer place than the road or camp.

Now both of them had joined Yoren in the inn’s common room before Gendry went for the bathhouse. Yoren used the opportunity to ask if Arry was okay with having the older boy following him around or if he maybe had tried _anything_. Arry assured, it was fine, that he would just want to be helpful. “Good”, Yoren said then, “Now, let’s see if we can’t find out what’s going on in the Riverlands, alright?” Thankfully at the inn people were more willing to talk to strangers. Though, Arry hadn’t paid too much attention to the first few people Yoren had talked to, most of what they had said sounded like horror stories … _from Old Nan_ , he had caught himself thinking. But when someone talked about wolves, two-legged and four-legged ones, coming down the Neck to fight the Lion, they suddenly had his full attention. Some claimed the Northerners had crowned themselves a king and called him Young Wolf and he would lead his army riding on a huge grey beast. Arry felt his heart racing as hope found its way back into his mind. _Robb_. And then they even told stories about a giant she-wolf that would lead a pack of hundreds or even thousands mankillers in the area around the Gods Eye. _Could it be …?_ _No_. He couldn’t let himself clutch to false hope. A woman joined their conversation claiming her cousin would have witnessed the she-wolf walking into a town in broad daylight and tearing a babe from her mother’s arm. “ _Liar!_  They don’t eat babies!” he blurted out, before he could stop himself. _Stupid false hope_ had made him give up caution. He had swallowed loudly when Yoren grabbed him by the collar, “You shut your drunken mouth when grown folk talk, green boy! Out with you, don’t let me see your face in here again!” Yoren hadn’t had to ask twice.

Arry then stood in front of the tavern, panting. Trying to shut up the voice in the back of his head, telling him there was hope. That not all was lost. That his brother would have come south with the Northern army and would be looking for him. He had to get away. _Now_. He grabbed his bundle and made for the woods. With Gendry still waiting in line for a bath and the others busy gulping down their ales Arry had no trouble to sneak off. As soon as he was past the treeline he started running. _Robb was out there. Somewhere._ _And she, too_. He only would have to find them and then _they would protect him and take him home._ When he came across a small brook logic got the upper hand again. _What was he doing?_ Had he forgotten what he had seen on the Kingsroad? He then splashed his face with cold water to calm down and clear his head of silly thoughts and foolish hopes. _He wasn’t safe alone on the run_. It was smarter to stick with Yoren. _For now_. Until he had found out where Robb was exactly. At least something good had come from his folly, he had found himself a bathtub of his own. The brook was cold but deep enough. It was better than nothing and its current was fast, so he was able to quickly wash himself and then the clothes he had worn, before he put on some spare ones. On his way back to the inn he was thinking of excuses he could tell, in case someone had noticed his absence.

But no one had. Gendry was in the bathhouse. So Arry had decided to wait for him sitting on the doorsteps of the inn when a strange voice called him, “Boy, lovely boy” it was one of the prisoners in the cage. The one with the red and white hair. The handsome one. Well, next to the other two _anyone_ would look handsome, Arry assumed. He approached, warily. “A man has a thirst and could use another beer.” the strange man said and when Arry didn’t make a move to get him one, he continued, “A boy could make a friend.” “I have friends.” Arry replied defiantly. “None I see.” the huge one, without a nose interrupted with a threatening tone in his voice and the third one hissed like a snake. _Fear cuts deeper than swords_ , Arry tried to calm himself. “A man must apologize, he didn’t choose his companions. You are called … Arry?” the handsome one said. _He knows my name?_ Arry didn’t reply, _Calm as still water_ , _fierce as a wolverine_. “This man has the honour to be Jaqen H’ghar, once from the free city of Lorath,” he pointed to himself, “And his ill-bred companions are Rorge” the one without a nose, “ and Biter. He is mute, so a man calls him Biter because of his pointy filed teeth.” Rorge and Biter both had something monstrous about them. Their bodies’ build but also in their behaviour. Rorge reminded Arry of a drawing he had once seen of a black hairy ape from the Summer Isles and Biter had something of a lizard about him. “Beer! Or I‘ll fuck you bloody with that stick o’ yours!” Rorge threatened. Arry was in the mood for a fight after what had happened in the inn, so he stepped closer and stayed just out of their arms’ reach, “You should have asked _nicely_.” he countered challenging. Jaqen H’ghar chuckled at that, “A boy has more courage than sense.” “ _What’re you doing?_ ” Gendry’s slightly alarmed voice came from behind Arry, “We’re not supposed to get near those three.” “Don’t scare me.” Arry retorted, not breaking eye contact with Rorge. “Then you’re stupid! They scare _me_.” Gendry scolded, pulling Arry away from the cart while Rorge laughed out loud.

Arry was sulking afterwards. He had reprimanded Gendry for letting the three prisoners know he was afraid of them. _How could he?_ But Gendry had only laughed. “How about we go to the woods and you show me what you can do with that Braavosi sword of yours?” Gendry asked after a while. Obviously meant to cheer Arry up and it worked, his mood lightened immediately. A few days ago Gendry had asked if he would get to see the blade and when Arry had drawn it from its scabbard he had been in awe, “That’s castle forged steel. Really good one. How did you get it?” “ _I didn’t steal it!_ ” Arry had declared, offended. “Never said you did.” Gendry had placated, not lifting his eyes from the blade. “It’s called _Needle_ … It was a gift. From my brother. _Jon_.” Arry then had given away, before he felt the need to add, “And he didn’t steal it either!” Gendry had smiled, “ _Needle_. Good name for it.” Arry had allowed him to hold it then and he had examined the sword closely before he had asked, “Where is he now? Your brother? If you don’t mind me asking.” “Don’t know. Last I heard he was with the Night’s Watch at Castle Black … To become a ranger like uncle Benjen.” Arry had said, fighting back the tears that tried to well up in his eyes, while Gendry’s eyes had went wide, “So, that’s why you’re here! Yoren is taking you to your brother.” “Yes.” Arry had admitted quietly, pushing back the memories that tried to overwhelm him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on both Arya’s and also Gendry’s backstory will differ more and more from their canon backstories (books & show) and my story now will slowly leave the path from books/TV series.


	4. Gold Cloaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gold Cloaks arrive at the inn, demanding Gendry is to be handed over to them. Yoren refuses, while Arry thinks of a plan to keep Gendry's name a secret from the other recruits.

They didn’t get far into the woods to practice with Needle, when Gendry spotted riders coming on the Kingsroad. Arry’s heart skipped a beat when he saw it was _Gold Cloaks_ approaching the inn. He grabbed Gendry by the arm and pulled him behind an overthrown tree, whispering, “Quiet like a shadow.” Gendry followed him without resistance. From behind the tree they watched the Gold Cloaks asking the men in front of the bathhouse if they were the group meant to take the Black. _Damn_. Arry went pale. Everyone there knew his name and the Gold Cloaks would put two and two together. _Stupid, stupid! Why did I beat up Hot Pie?_ Gendry looked at him puzzled, whispering “What is it?” “ _They’re looking for me!_ ” Arry replied with panic in his voice, Gendry looked even more bewildered, “What would they want with _you_?” Yoren came out from the inn and asked the City Watch men what they wanted. “We have a warrant from the king for one of those gutter rats.” their leader handed Yoren a scroll. Arry and Gendry could see how some of the recruits grabbed their weapons. “Thing is, those lads belong to the Night’s Watch now, that puts ‘em beyond the reach of kings and queens.” Yoren told them. “The king gives a shit about your Watch. You’ll give us the boy, or…” the Gold Cloak was drawing his sword, but Yoren was faster, pointing his dagger against the rider’s inner thigh, “People worry so much about their throats they forget about what down ‘low. Now, I sharpened this blade before breakfast. I could shave a spider’s arse if I wanted to, _or_ I could nick this artery in your leg and once it’s nicked, no one around here knows how to unnick it.” Yoren took the Gold Cloak’s sword, “We’ll just keep that. And its scabbard. Since you don’t mind!” The man opened his sword belt and threw it on the ground. “The Night’s Watch thanks you. Good steel is always needed on the Wall. Now, seems to me you have the choice, to either die here, a long way from home. Or you can ride back to your city and tell your masters you didn’t find what you were looking for.” “We’re looking for a boy named Gendry,” the Gold Cloak defiantly shouted for everyone to hear, “he’s carrying a bull’s head helmet.” “No one here by that name!” Hot Pie shouted back, even he had grabbed a stone to throw at them.

Now Arry looked puzzled at Gendry. His face had darkened like he had never seen it before. It took him a while to dare to ask, “What would the Gold Cloaks want with you? And what helmet were they talking about?” Gendry snorted angrily, “I left it with my master. That old fox must have sold it to some poor fool and sent them _goldhatted bastards_ on a wild goose chase …” Gendry had a dangerous smile on his face now. “So, no one knows it’s you they’re looking for?” Arry asked worried. “ _You_ know. And Yoren.” Gendry was scanning Arry’s face now. “ _Good_. I won’t tell anyone and neither will Yoren.” Arry assured. “The only problem could be if someone’s figuring out a connection between a bull’s helmet and Lommy and Hot Pie calling you ‘the Bull’.” Arry paused, “But most of them are idiots, they probably won’t get it before we reach the Neck.” Arry tried to cheer Gendry up. It didn’t work, obviously. So Arry had to try something else, “Look, we probably should get to know the others a bit better, or at least we should tell them a name they could call you by to prevent ‘Bull’ from becoming your actual nickname. How about …” Arry had to think of a good name, “How about Jory?” “Why Jory?” Gendry demanded, still fuming. Arry explained, Jory had been a friend, loyal and brave, who had protected him since he was born. _And died doing so_ , Arry thought, feeling guilty. “Jory is fine, then.” Gendry grumbled. “It’s only until we’re past the Neck. Then we’re safe from the Lannisters and _you can be yourself again_ ...” Arry tried to comfort both Gendry and himself as well.

They decided to stay in the woods for a little while longer to calm down and they needed an explanation for their absence during the incident with the Gold Cloaks, too. So they went to look for some berries and were actually lucky, soon after they had stumbled across a field of blueberry bushes. Arry proposed to sneak back to camp to get a bucket and to try to get Hot Pie and Lommy helping with the picking. Then they could settle things with them and after all, they had spread ‘the Bull’ so they could spread Gendry’s false name ‘Jory’ just as well.

“Hey, Hot Pie,” Arry began, when he approached the two boys back at camp. Hot Pie winced hearing his voice, “Look, I wanted to apologize for beating you. I shouldn’t have done that. I am really sorry. I… would like us to be friends from now on. I mean, we are in the Night’s Watch now, aren’t we? So we will all be brothers soon.” Hot Pie looked at him as if one of the donkeys had started speaking. Arry offered him his hand to shake, but Hot Pie was reluctant to take it. _Damn, how much humble pie do I have to eat?_ “Listen, Jory and I found a huge field of blueberry bushes.” Hot Pie’s eyes lit up a bit at that. _Got you!_ “And since you are a baker we thought you and Lommy could help us picking some berries and maybe we could make some pies.” At that he had convinced Hot Pie for good and with him Lommy as well. Yet, they kept their distance and let Arry lead the way into the woods. _So they aren’t complete fools. Good to know_ , Arry thought. But when Hot Pie saw the blueberry bushes, he had forgotten all caution towards Arry and shouted happily, “Four buckets won’t be enough to pick ‘em all.” Gendry walked over to him, laughing, “Well, it would probably be nice of us if we left some for the next bunch of Night’s Watch recruits, don’t you think?” He offered his hand and Hot Pie shook it without hesitation, “I am Jory, by the way.” Gendry said, before he shook hands with Lommy, too.

Soon after Lommy and Hot Pie relaxed over all the blueberries and before Gendry and Arry knew they were all acting as if the four of them had been friends forever, throwing blueberries at each other and fooling around. And of course Hot Pie and Lommy reported about how Arry and ‘Jory’ had missed their battle with the Gold Cloaks and how they had defeated them alongside Yoren. Gendry and Arry had a hard time not to laugh and instead pretending to be jealous to have missed the spectacle. Both their faces had lit up again, truly enjoying their hunt for blueberries. Getting blue hands and faces as if they were children again. _It feels good_ , Arry thought, _almost like old times_ with his friends and his siblings.

It was almost dark when they all returned to camp. The four buckets full with berries and the prospect of pies distracted the recruits from asking questions about where they had been. Well, someone asked where they had found that many blueberries, Hot Pie pointed towards Arry and Gendry and shouted, “Arry and Jory had found them first, but they needed help with the picking.” Most of the other boys offered their help with the baking, to ensure they would earn some of the pies. Hot Pie and Lommy were happy, obviously feeling as if they had been the heroes of this day. They probably were. Most recruits cared more about food in their bellies than about Gold Cloaks and kings. Arry and Gendry had stayed behind settling down on their blankets. With so many volunteers their help wasn’t needed for the baking. They watched from their little lair how Hot Pie and Lommy beamed with joy and pride. Arry looked over to Gendry, smiling, “See, now you’re Jory and ‘the Bull’ is forgotten.” Gendry laughed, “It’s a miracle we actually got credited for finding the berries.”


	5. I'm Not a Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoren and the recruits are in the Riverlands now. They left the Kingsroad to mislead the Gold Cloaks. They can't move as fast as before with the carts. When an axle breaks Arry and Gendry are tasked to gather firewood. Arry has a bit of an urgent problem and starts a fight with Gendry to get rid of him. But instead he finally gets a first clue on what really happened in King's Landing and Gendry looses his temper ... from then on things between them go south faster than both of them could have imagined.

“Come one, you sorry sons of whores, get up! You gotta to move your asses quicker now! You don’t wanna find yourselves between enemy lines with all that fighting going on in the Riverlands.” Yoren had roared the morning after and had made sure the column of carts and Night’s Watch recruits was soon back on the Kingsroad, defiantly moving north, though everyone else travelled south.

Hot Pie and Lommy dared to ride next to Arry and Gendry now. But never for too long. At the inn they had befriended other recruits during baking blueberry pies and were now spoilt for choice with whom they would ride next. They could be seen riding with one group in the morning and with another before noon and again with different groups in the afternoon. For them it seemed to be all a great adventure, even more now that they got along with most of the recruits. Arry somehow envied them for their innocence and naivety.

Their column had left the Kingsroad a few days ago, marching north-west now on a smaller and even bumpier road, going a long way round the Gods Eye’s western shores. There the Gold Cloaks wouldn’t be looking for them, Yoren had assured Arry. Since then the landscape had slowly changed and soon they understood what gave the Riverlands its name. Small runlets were crossing their way here and there and streams of all sizes could be heard in the woods or seen dividing fields and meadows and every once and a while they had to cross some of them through cragged fords. The landscape was beautiful but one could feel something was amiss here. Arry felt uneasy and he wasn’t the only one. Gendry was brooding way more often now. Most of the land was empty. Empty of people, and empty of their animals. Fields and orchards were ripe with crop and fruit but no one there to harvest. So Yoren gave permission to reap some of the abandoned crops and fruits. With most of the villages also deserted they had no other option to restock their supplies. Arry didn’t like it, fearing the people who worked the fields and orchards would need their harvest come winter.

And _winter is coming_. _Father was right_ , he thought _._ Summer would soon come to end, he could see the first leaves turning yellow and red. Arry was a summer child, though he hated being called that, he couldn’t deny it was true. It would be his first winter.

Some few people in the Riverlands seem to think of winter as well. They could be seen guarding their fields and fruit defiantly, armed with simple homemade weapons and pitchforks. They were looking wary at the strangers and warned them to stay away from their lands. Arry felt a lump in his throat. _They won’t stand a chance against marauding troops_. Not even against them and they were just untrained Night’s Watch recruits.

But what troubled their journey most now was all that water everywhere. It made the terrain muddier and bumpier than before and the column couldn’t move as fast as they wanted. Their carts got stuck in ruts and mud several times a day and if not that, they came across muddy slopes they had to climb or find a way around. The cart axles were creaking and it wasn’t before long that the first one broke and had to be renewed. Thankfully it was already late in the afternoon then. So Yoren announced they would set up their camp right there. He tasked a former carpenter to choose three men to assist him in repairing the cart and as usual he sent Arry and Gendry to gather firewood in case the poachers would bring game to camp. Hot Pie was tasked with the cooking and Lommy assisted him, since them two were inseparable.

Arry felt relieved, he had feared the two boys would want to join them when he and Gendry went to the woods. His bladder had begun aching about an hour ago and water burbling along everywhere had turned riding into torture. He had thanked the gods for that axle breaking. Now he only had to sneak away from Gendry. But he seemed intent to keep Arry within eyeshot for much longer as he usually did. Arry could see him scanning the woods warily. _Damn_. He just needed to get away for a minute. _Now_. Well, if Gendry didn’t want to leave, he had to make him.

As soon as they were out of earshot from camp, Arry asked, “So, why were the Gold Cloaks after you?” He had no patience for a more subtle approach. “Don’t worry about them. With the Riverlands all empty, no one can tell where we had gone.” Gendry tried to calm him. “I’m not worried.” he lied. He still feared they might come back, but he had a more urgent problem right now, “I want to know what they wanted with you.” “Believe me, you _don’t_ want to know.” Gendry said. “Why not?” Arry pushed. “Because…, everyone who knows is dead or has a price on his head by now.” Gendry obviously tried to keep him from asking further questions. Arry furrowed his brow, pretending to think out loud, “Did you steal something?” “No.”, Gendry said, still at Arry’s side. “But what did you do then?” Arry wouldn’t let go. “Nothing.” Gendry claimed stubbornly. “Well, you must have done something to piss Cersei and Joffrey off.” Arry stated. “But I didn’t!” Gendry sounded slightly annoyed. _Finally_. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. I am sure, most of the other recruits did something worse, or else they wouldn’t be here!” Arry pushed further. Trying not to groan with pain whenever he bent over to pick up some firewood. “I didn’t do anything and I am not embarrassed! Would you just stop asking!” now Gendry was annoyed, for sure. “Sounds not very convincing. Come one, you can tell.” Arry was getting annoyed himself. “I don’t _care_ if you find that convincing. I won’t tell!” Gendry replied. He seemed to ask for it, so Arry teased, “Did you, _you know_ … with the queen?” “ _NO!_ What’s wrong with you?” Gendry almost shouted, his face turning red. “Would explain why she wants you dead.” Arry stated as if it were nothing. “Are you out of your mind?” Gendry asked, clearly embarrassed. Arry snorted with laughter to see him in such distress, even though laughing hurt. _How could he take that question serious?_ But at least it worked, it pissed him off. Or so he thought till Gendry pleaded, “ _I didn’t do anything!_ ” So Arry continued his interrogation, “Is it because you know something, then? A secret? About the king or the queen?” “No. I didn’t do anything and I don’t know anything. Never met any of them. Never want to. Stop asking and leave me be!” Gendry grumbled but didn’t make a move to walk away. “Come on, it can’t be that bad.” he said. “ _But it is!_ Both Hands are dead because of me!” Gendry blurted out, catching Arry unprepared. His face went pale in shock. “Oh. No! No! That came out wrong. I didn’t kill them or so. I swear.” Gendry explained, after realising what Arry must be thinking, “It’s just… they both knew about me and each came by master’s shop to see me and was dead soon after. That’s all. _Really_!”

This was no longer a game for Arry. His bladder could burst, he couldn’t care less! He had to get the truth out of Gendry. _Now!_ So he asked dead serious, “ _Who-Are-You?_ ” Gendry’s head drooped, giving in, “A bastard. Of the old king. Robert.” “So? Robert had lots of bastards?” Arry asked, not understanding how Gendry being a king’s bastard could have killed both Hands of the King. “Robert is dead! And now that little shit and his bitch of a mother want his bastards dead, too. That’s why the Gold Cloaks came! Happy now?” Gendry shouted annoyed. “Doesn’t explain why the Hands are dead!” Arry shouted back, unimpressed. He couldn’t stop. _He had to know._ “ _I-Don’t-Know!_ All I can tell is that they both came to see me shortly before they died. Offering if I ever would need anything I should come to them. And saying how much I would look like young Robert. And Stark even asked about my mother. What colour her eyes and hair were. And before you ask that, too, she had yellow hair and brown eyes. And now _we’re done talking._ ” Gendry glared at him furiously and when Arry attempted to ask another question, he challenged, “Or how about we talk about _your little secrets_ now?”

That took Arry by surprise. He didn’t know what to say. “So, now we go mute again. Who would have seen that coming?” Gendry teased, still furious, “Come on. Out with it! Can’t be that bad, right?” Gendry cornered him. _How did that happen? I had him cornered!_ “I don’t have any secrets. Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Arry shouted defiantly, glaring back at him. _Calm as still water. Fierce as a wolverine_. “Oh. Okay. Then how about that one? You’re a girl.” Arry froze. _No! How?_ Dropping down all the firewood, it was a miracle his bladder still held the water, Arry’s mind was racing. “ _I’m not a girl!_ ” Arry yelled, but her voice betrayed her. “ _Yes, you are!_ ” Gendry had a slight smile on his lips now, though still angry. He snorted, “Do you think me as stupid as the rest of them?” “No. Stupider! The Night’s Watch doesn’t take girls. Everyone knows that!” she wouldn’t give in. “True. You’re still a girl.” and neither would he. “I’m not!” _she_ _couldn’t_. “Alright. Then pull your cock out and take a piss. Go on!” Gendry challenged her, dropping his firewood forcefully. “I don’t need to take a piss!” she replied, weakly. “ _Liar!_ You can’t pull your cock out because you don’t have one. And if you’re not a girl, then you must be some eunuch.” Gendry had fun teasing her now and she was the one who was furious and obviously running out of excuses, “You’re the eunuch!” Gendry stepped closer until he was right in front of her. She tried to stand her ground, but the way he looked at her was strange now and made her heart race even more. “ _You know I’m not_.” he said confidently, trying to hide his smug grin and not breaking eye contact with her, “Or do you want me to take out my cock and prove it?”

Her face turned a bright red and she couldn’t stop herself from blinking. She lowered her gaze, feeling embarrassed. No boy had ever dared to talk or look at her like that! The boys she had known had been too afraid of her father or her brothers. But father was dead and her brothers didn’t even know where to look for her. The only thing she could think of then was a lesson Robb and Jon had given her. She stepped back and landed a punch on Gendry’s cheek, wiping away his smirk. He hadn’t had a chance to dodge the blow, _he didn’t see that coming!_ And she hit him hard enough to make him stumble backwards, looking absolutely dumbfounded. “ _How was that for a girl?_ ” she yelled and stormed off, running into the woods. “Arry, _wait_! I’m sorry…!” she could hear him calling.

Rage was giving way to … _Oh gods_ , she was panicking. _Gendry knew_ and she had nothing in her pants to convince him otherwise. Her pretence was over … Tears began to well up in her eyes. _What now? Kill him_? _She could have_ … before Yoren had given him that stupid Gold Cloak’s sword. _But now?_ She had seen him handling the blade as if he knew what he was doing. _Had he been trained to wield a sword?_ After all, he was Robert’s bastard. _Damn._

Gendry came running after her, “Arry, _please_! Let’s talk!” But she wouldn’t stop. Not until he grabbed her arm. She was trembling, feeling defeated and betrayed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to scare you. It’s just…, I was so angry and things got out of hand. I didn’t mean to tell you _like that_. That I know.” he rubbed his cheek, red where her fist had collided with it. _Good_. She fought back the lump in her throat and pleaded, “ _The others can’t know. No one can know_.” She didn’t look at him. “They won’t. Not from me.” he promised and then relaxed his grip on her arm and let his hand slide down her forearm. When she realised he wanted to grasp her hand, she pulled free and hid it behind her back. “Come on, let me see!” Her hand was pulsing with pain. _Nothing he needed to know_. Her position was already weak enough. _She would take care of it later_. “I just want to check if it’s alright. That was quite a punch you gave me there.” he assured. “ _It’s fine!_ ” she claimed, “Wasn’t the first time.” True. But she never punched anyone or anything that hard. Never had to. “If it’s nothing, then _why_ not let me see it?” he demanded. She stepped back, fearing he would try to grab her arm again, she yelled “ _I don’t want you to touch me!_ ” He sighed, “I don’t have to touch it, to see if it’s alright.” _Damn_. _Why does he have to be so stubborn?_ Reluctantly she pulled her hand forth and showed him. “ _See_. _Fine_. Just a bit red. That’s normal.” she said. He instructed, “Outstretch your fingers. Move them. Now make a fist and circle your wrist. Open it again. Good.” she did as he told her but bit her tongue to not let him see, she was in pain. “You need to cool that, let’s get some moss for it.” “ _I don’t need any moss!_ ” she claimed. “Yes, you do! At least if you want to be able to move that hand tomorrow. So come on!” he said.

 _Was he serious?_ “I won’t go anywhere _with you_!” she proclaimed glaring at him. He nodded, looking genuinely hurt. She could see him trying to say something, but he stayed silent. _She didn’t care!_ She was intent to stay away from him. To her own dismay she had to admit, she had begun to trust him, enough to feel safe around him. _It had felt good. As if he was one of her brothers_. She had even told him about Needle and Jon. But that trust was all gone now. She wouldn’t make that mistake again _. She should have known better. She was old enough_. Yoren had told her, she could not trust the other recruits. _She should have listened_. After all what happened in King’s Landing, why had she been so desperate to trust _him_ as soon as he had shown her some kindness? _Stupid!_

He didn’t make a move to leave and kept looking at her, she could feel his eyes on her but she kept glaring at some roots at her feet. Then he spoke again, “I know, you don’t want to hear that now. But…, you have nothing to fear from me. I won’t harm you. And I won’t touch you in any improper way. Nor any other way you don’t want. You are safe with me and so is your secret. I swear. To the Old Gods and the New.” She studied his face while he said it, looking for any signs of lying. But she couldn’t find one. All she could see was remorse. _Doesn’t mean, he’s not lying!_ “Alright, I’ll do as you wish and leave you be now. I’ll wait at the clearing where we left the firewood. Make sure you cool that hand of yours. And don’t go too far into the woods. The Riverlands aren’t as safe as they used to be. And call, if you need help.” he said, before he turned and walked away, not looking back. Probably knowing she watched him.

 _Finally she was alone_. She just had to make water … _but then this all happened!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you want to know why I decided to change Gendry's backstory:
> 
> I don’t like how his alleged fighting talent is depicted in the books and lately in the TV show as well. Everyone keeps saying how much he is like his father, that he has all of Robert’s talents and good traits and almost none of the bad. Robert used to be one of the best warriors when he was young, but so far I only saw Gendry is a talented smith. When it comes to fighting in the books I only see that he is strong but not much of talent.  
> In the TV show I love Joe Dempsie portraying Gendry, he is doing a great job in my opinion. Especially when it comes to Gendry being stubborn. In season 2 there was some potential of Gendry’s talent for fighting shown, but since then I didn’t really see him fight. In Season 7 Gendry’s fighting was a joke. Swinging his hammer three times and then run back to the wall and even leave his hammer behind. Seriously D & D? Please give that boy a storyline.


	6. Screw Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Gendry had confronted Arry about 'his little secret', she didn't trust him anymore and asked him to leave her be. So he walked back to a clearing where they had started their fight. He had promised to wait there for her. But she doesn't return for hours, not before Yoren finds Gendry and accuses him of having done something to her.

As promised he had gone back to the clearing where they had dropped the firewood during their fight. _Their fight she had started. Out of the blue._ He still didn’t understand what had gotten into her. But it didn’t matter. Since he had been the one losing his temper, deciding _that_ would be the perfect time to let her know he knew her secret. _What was he thinking?_ Well, obviously he hadn’t been thinking. _Bloody idiot!_ He snorted derogatorily, _ours is the Fury? Screw that! And screw that fool of a dead father!_

Just like now, all fury had ever brought him was nothing but trouble. Gendry was thankful his father’s bad traits weren’t as developed in him. He hated himself whenever they took over. _Nothing good ever came from that._ _Not for him nor others._ If it hadn’t been for his mother’s counter steering he would probably be dead by now.

His dear mother had been younger than he was now, still a maiden, when she had met his father. Then Robert Baratheon had been the handsome glorious hero who had valiantly defeated the mad Targaryens. Not yet the fat incompetent fool who sat the iron throne until two moon’s turns ago. _Yes, how valiant that man had been!_ Seducing maidens all over the Seven Kingdoms only to abandon them to their fates afterwards. Leaving it to his Hand of the King to deal with consequences like him. Gendry had never met his father and yet he seemed to have more in common with him than with his beloved mother who had been at his side until the day she had died; ten years ago. _Why couldn’t he be more like her? Kind. Thoughtful. Patient. Calm._ He tried but somehow the Baratheon traits always seemed to win the upper hand in the end. He would have needed her guidance for much longer than the gods had allowed them.

Maybe then he wouldn’t be such an idiot when it came to girls. Somehow they had always liked him. Just like they had liked his father. Yet Gendry had never learned how to act around them. Well, his father neither. _That craven_ had only ever learnt to seduce them, but never to respect women. Gendry tried it the other way around, he was in no need of bastards of his own. And still he always managed to ruin things.

Now he couldn’t even be a friend to a young girl that was hiding among thirty scumbags to get back to her brother. Her brother couldn’t protect her. _But he could!_ And he wanted to. _So why the heck couldn’t he just do that and keep his stupid mouth shut?_ That girl, he didn’t even know her true name, was so different from all the girls he had known. They were dreaming of handsome knights and heroes to carry them away riding into sunset on a white stallion _. Not she_. She was smart and fierce and wilful. _She had a sword._ And from how quick and skilled she had attacked Hot Pie and now him, she most likely knew to wield it. _And she could ride_. He was sure of that, though he had only seen her riding a donkey so far. She never complained about sore limbs and never was as tired as the others. _She could ride to whatever adventure she wanted to herself_.  She apparently knew she didn’t need a man to make her dreams come true. His mother would have liked her and so did he. He admired her, though she was at least five or six years younger than him.

He thought of the day he had seen her for the first time. The day they had left King’s Landing. The day Eddard Stark had been beheaded a traitor on the steps of the Great Sept. His father’s best friend and his Hand of the King. The man, who had warned Gendry when his father was about to die and had arranged his escape from the city with the Night’s Watch recruits. Yoren originally had planned to leave soon after, but had gotten a message another prisoner would join them. Then something had gone wrong, instead of a prisoner Yoren had brought _her_ , claiming he had found another gutter rat to join them.

She had been a mess then. Her face had been empty of all emotions. Except for her sad absent eyes that were constantly pointing north as soon as they were on the Kingsroad. He had thought the Night’s Watch must be in a sorry state if they would take someone so young and so obviously traumatized. She had been like the smallest and weakest of a litter of kittens, the outcast. The one that wouldn’t make it. _Damn, had he been wrong!_

Gendry hadn’t been interested in befriending thieves, rapists and murderers and so he had stuck to himself, having plenty of time to observe what was going on around him. Though, the other recruits weren’t interesting to watch. They had done whatever one would expect of scumbags. Just like they had in Flea Bottom. So somehow his eyes always ended up watching that weak little kitten triggering his protective instinct. But he hadn’t been the only one. He had noticed Yoren was watching as well. And come the third day he had figured out what was so odd about _his kitten_. He had seen _it_ sneak back to camp before sunrise, carrying the boots instead of wearing them. He had wondered, why one would think it necessary to sneak around in the woods like that when everyone else was asleep? And suddenly it dawned on him. The smooth flowing way that body moved, the delicate facial features and small slender hands and all that never opening that too wide jerkin no matter how hot it was during midday. Later that day when he had pulled her off of Hot Pie by grasping her round the waist, he had been sure he was holding a girl in his arm and one far from a weak little kitten. From then on he had tried to stay by her side. For everyone to see. In case some other recruits might come to the same conclusion as him …

Though, she hadn’t made it easy for him. He found her a hard nut to crack. She was just as determined to keep him at bay as he was determined to stay close. Truth be told he still was just scratching the surface and from how sudden things had gone south today that would be all he ever did. _Idiot_. The past three years in King’s Landing there hadn’t been anyone he would have called a friend. Not a true friend, at least. With her it was different. They both stubbornly avoided talking about their past and yet it didn’t stop them from getting along better every day, as if they were tuned to the same wavelength. At the inn when she had not only kept his secret but even helped to conceal it with a false name, she had proven qualities he didn’t expect to find in someone after only a moon’s turn of travelling together. _Someone like that he could call a true friend._ _He wanted to_. But he had ruined that chance within a blink of an eye, it seemed.

 _What was he thinking?_ Yes, she had made him furious with all that questions about his past and he didn’t understand why that suddenly had been so important to her that she had kept pushing and pushing and just wouldn’t stop anymore. But it was not like she had her blade pointing at his throat. He hadn’t had to tell her. He could have just walked away. _Why didn’t he?_ _Why couldn’t he for once keep his temper?_ He could have just asked her, why she thought the Gold Cloaks would have been after her. Of course, she wouldn’t have told him, he knew that much. So instead of accepting that, he decided to get back at her by blurting out the secret he knew. Boasting about how he had been able to see through her disguise. _Idiot!_ And not only that, he had to embarrass her then! Knowing damn well she couldn’t be older than thirteen, he had to give her a _fucking cock speech!_ _Was that how his mother had raised him?_ When she had shouted, “You’re the eunuch!” it was obvious he had won. They both had known that. But he wasn’t done with her, yet. He had to land his final blow. Teasing her, if he would need to prove her how much of a man he was. _Seriously? He was indeed his father’s son_ , preying on little girls who didn’t know, yet, how to hold such advances at bay. He had never felt so ashamed like now. He had thought he would be better than the other recruits … _Apparently not._

She was right to hit him. He deserved it and he was glad she had done so. It had brought him back to his senses. He had tried to use her younger age and inexperience against her and she paid him back, hoisting him with his own petard. _Punched him like a man_. He wondered who had taught her that. _Maybe her brother_. If the sister can land such a blow though almost two heads shorter, he wasn’t sure if he would want to mess with the brother.

He rubbed his cheek, feeling the bruise swelling. It hurt, but not half as much as _that frightened look on her face_ had when he had run after her. He had to make up for this. He had to prove her and himself, this was neither the kind of man he was nor wanted to be. He didn’t want to lose the only friend he had here. He had apologised and sworn he would never harm her. But what good was that? She had begun to trust him, told him about her brother who had given her Needle. But that trust was gone now. It was obvious when he had tried to check her hand after the punch.

Now he was sitting on the edge of the clearing, leaning against an old oak tree, brooding and worrying if she was alright. The only company he had were two squirrels busy reaping acorns in the branches above him. At first they weren’t happy about having him there. But since he hadn’t moved for almost two hours now, they seemed to think he had become part of the landscape and dared to hide their crop all around the clearing ground. While he was staring into the direction where he had last seen her, seeing no signs of her return. He was getting anxious. The sun was soon setting. _Had something happened to her?_ Or was she just mad at him and had decided to go straight back to camp, enjoying to know that he sat here waiting for her like the idiot he was? He didn’t dare to check. He had promised to wait right here. So he didn’t want to risk she could return and not find him here, losing the little bit of trust she might still have in him. He hoped she was just satisfying her desire for revenge by playing a game with him now.

Then he heard someone coming. _Wrong direction_. From camp. And from the noisy strides it was clear, it couldn’t be her. _Great_. He had expected Yoren would come looking soon. Gendry didn’t move, didn’t care. He had a bruised face and she was gone. He knew what that looked like. He deserved what was coming.

It was indeed Yoren, storming right over to Gendry, pulling him up by his collar, “Where is the lil’ one?” “I don’t know.” Gendry replied, “She was somewhere over there when I’d last seen her.” “ _She?_ ” Yoren interrogated, “What did you do, you  _damn bastard_?!” “Nothing.” “ _Nothing?_ And that shiny new bruise on your face is from squirrels throwin’ acorns at ya, huh?” Yoren demanded, while the squirrels above them ranted for being disturbed again. “If Ned Stark had known what you’d do … _That man_ _saved your sorry ass_ and this is how you repay him?!” Yoren growled, “ _What did you do to her?!_ ” “ _Nothing_. We had a fight. I got angry and said some things I shouldn’t and she punched me. _I didn’t touch her!_ ” Gendry explained calmly, “Well, when she ran off, I grabbed her arm, trying to stop her. But that’s all. _I swear._ ” “Then why let her run off alone?!” Yoren demanded. “ _What was I supposed to do?_ Grab her and drag her back to camp screaming?” Gendry defended himself. “Exactly that, you fool! So, come on, let’s find her!” Yoren demanded. “ _No!_ ” Gendry replied, “I can’t.” “ _What was that?_ ” Yoren looked at him in disbelief, “You move your ass now and may the gods have mercy if we don’t find her!” “ _No._ _I promised_.” Gendry claimed stubbornly, “ _I’m waiting right here!_ ” And just when Yoren wanted to hit him, they heard her, “I’m here.” Both Yoren and Gendry turned, seeing her stepping forth from behind a tree. _Thank the gods, she was alright!_

“ _What happened?_ ” Yoren asked her now. “What he said.” she replied. _How long had she been there?_ “Did he try _something_? Touching you or anything?” Yoren demanded to know. “No.” she retorted. “ _Are you_ _sure_?” Yoren asked, clearly not convinced. “He was being stupid, I hit him and ran, that was it.” she confirmed. _Why?_ She could have gotten back at him, claiming whatever she liked to get rid of him. Yoren turned back, threatening, “I don’t care you think yourself a smartass for finding out! _I’m smarter!_ Been watching you, lad. Or why you think I came alone now? If you just as much as think of touching her or telling anyone, I’ll gut you! _No further warning._ Are we clear?” before letting go of Gendry’s collar. “ _She‘s safe with me._ And so’s her secret. I swore to her and I swear to you.” he replied stubbornly. “ _Don’t care what you vow!_ ” Yoren growled unimpressed. “You don’t trust me. Neither of you _. I get it_. But I’ll prove you wrong.” Gendry retorted, removing his sword belt and handing it back to Yoren.

“ _No!_ You keep it!” she intervened. “She’s right, we don’t wanna raise suspicions. You keep it. Or how you think to keep the lil’ smartass safe?” Yoren said and assured, “Won’t help you anyways if it’s me coming for you.” Gendry nodded and put the belt back on. Then Yoren went over to her, seeing her hand bandaged, “Let me see that.” “ _It’s fine!_ ” she replied annoyed, “I already told _him_ that.” Yoren snorted. “Nothing’s broken. I checked.” Gendry assured, “Told her to cool it.” “ _I did!_ I know what I am doing, _I’m not a child!_ ” she was getting angry again. “Enough with the bickering! You two’ve given me plenty of headache for today. Back to camp! _Now!_ ” Yoren roared.

“ _Found them two fools._ Tried to catch some wild horse bare-handed!” Yoren announced when they entered the campsite. Everyone laughed. _Seriously?_ On the other hand what else would explain her bandaged hand and his bruised face? They clearly had been in a fight with someone and if not with each other, then with whom? Gendry looked at her, she was fuming, apparently offended by Yoren’s explanation. She stormed to her bundle at the outskirts of their camp and he followed, before he realized she probably wouldn’t want him sleeping so close to her anymore.

But then Hot Pie with two bowls of stew and Lommy at his heels came after them. “So, a wild horse … how did that happen?” Hot Pie asked. “ _Ask him!_ He’s the one who screwed up!” she retorted angrily. “Don’t want to talk about it.” he said sullenly. “Um, okay. I just leave the stew here then. In case you get hungry.” Hot Pie was clearly disappointed and made to leave. Gendry felt sorry for being rude, “Thank you for saving us some. We’ll try it later. It’s just, um, today was not a good day. We’ll tell-” “You mean, _you’ll tell!_ ” she interrupted. “ _I’ll tell_ you about the horse tomorrow, okay? But now, Arry and I have to settle some things first.” Gendry placated. “ _We?_ We don’t have anything to settle! _We’re done!_ ” she stated still fuming. Hot Pie and Lommy realized whatever was going on, they didn’t want to get in between and left.

“I’m sorry.” Gendry said, when they were out of earshot. “ _Spare me your saying sorry!_ ” she hissed. He made a move to take his blanket further away from hers, when she went on, “Yeah, move your blanket to the other side of camp! So everyone knows something is wrong, _stupid!_ ” “Alright, what would you have me do?” he asked, tired of all of this. _Could this day not just be over now?_ “ _Why_ didn’t you tell me earlier? Instead of lying!” she asked angrily. “ _Seriously?_ You would have preferred me to walk up to you the third day? Saying something like, ‘Hey little one! Just by the way, you look like a girl and pulling you off of Hot Pie confirmed that.’?” he replied, slowly losing his patience. _Not again,_ he warned himself. “ _I look like a girl?_ ” she asked shocked. “Well, yes. And no. I noticed something was odd about you.” he explained, seeing her looking warily at the other recruits. Apparently asking herself who else could notice. “Don’t worry. The others don’t know. They’re too busy with themselves to look at you for more than a second.” he tried to appease her. But it didn’t work, she explained, “For a trained eye it doesn’t take more than a second!” “Well, that’s why I am here!” he stated, “Trained eye or not, they would have to fight two now.” “ _Three!_ ” she claimed defiantly, “ _I can fight,_ too!” “ _I meant you and me!_ ” he had to tease her again, “Who’s _stupid_ now?” She punched his upper arm, “ _You!_ ” He chuckled, “So intent on ruining the other one, too? I guess, it’ll be just Yoren and me doing the fighting after all.” “ _Shut up!_ Could have punched you with this one again. Just didn’t want your sleeve get dirty with all the moss!” He rubbed his palm over his face, she just couldn’t admit any weakness. _Unbelievable_. But he didn’t care. _This_ was more than he had hoped for an hour ago.

“So, are you really called Arry or do you have some girl’s name?” he asked after a while, making sure no one was in the woods behind them. “Arya.” she gave away. The way she had said it, almost whispering, he knew, it was the truth. _There was hope for their friendship._ He smiled when he looked at her, “It is nice to meet you, Arya. For real now.”

Before they would fall asleep he had to ask, “You weren’t hiding behind that tree all the time, were you?” “ _No_.” she replied amused and teased, “Not behind _that_ tree.” _Unbelievable_. “Meaning, you hid behind others as well, watching me for two hours?” he asked. “No. Not entirely. There are different ways to do that.” she said. “Are you sure, you want _me_ to tell that horse story tomorrow?” he teased. “Yeah.” she teased back, “And when you’re done, I’ll go and catch one. Single-handed!” He chuckled, “There are no wild horses in the Riverlands.” “A wild wolf then!” she always had to have the final say. _On anything!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think Arya had watched Gendry on the clearing by warging the squirrels, you might be right or not. I wanted to leave that a open to your interpretation, by only letting her say, that there are options to do that, without confirming she did watch him in his misery.
> 
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> 
> In the books Ned Stark had intended to take care of the bastards he had found when he investigated the death of Jon Arryn. But he obviously didn’t think their lives could be in danger after Robert’s death. In my story Ned Stark remembered the Sack of King’s Landing and what happened to Elia and her children and so he thought Robert’s bastards' lifes in danger, even if his plan to make Stannis king had worked. So he made sure the two he knew of were warned and arranged for both Gendry and Barra their escape from the city. But so far it is not clear, if Barra had also made it. Since her mother was so naïve and so young, I am not sure if she managed to get herself and her daughter to safety.


	7. Blazed Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoren's band travels through the war-torn Riverlands, coming across villages either cruelly erased or abandoned and it is eating away at the recruits. Arya can feel something evil is out there in the woods around the Gods Eye, but she doesn't know what it is, yet. She only knows they are not safe there and something is coming for them. The men should have listened to her!

Most people in the Riverlands followed the New Gods now. The Seven. _Gods of her mother_. But in the forests around the Gods Eye and on the Isle of Faces in the midst of the great lake even their followers had to admit the Old Gods were still present. _This was their land_. _Land of the Children of the Forest and the First Men._ Here weirwood trees were still growing, still watching. According to her mother, they couldn’t only be found on the Isle of Faces, but also elsewhere in the Riverlands, well hidden in the woods. Forgotten by most.

It should have comforted Arya to have _her gods_ watching her now. But it didn’t. These forests harboured something dark. Something evil. The closer they got to the Gods Eye, the more restless she felt. _This_ was what the people on the Kingsroad had been running from. _Something monstrous. Yet human_. And no gods could protect them …

Arya had believed she had known fear, from what had happened in King’s Landing. But this here seemed to be a whole new level of it. By nightfall they could see blazes lighten the sky red from afar. And come sunrise they would often wake to a taste of smoke on their lips. Though, Yoren had doubled their watch and ordered everyone to carry some sort of weapon now, it didn’t help Arya to settle. A night with a blazed sky mostly meant they would come across a village in ashes the day after. Men and beast likewise burned and butchered. In the first village their whole band had fallen silent looking at a smoking ruin of a sept; burned corpses of parents still holding their children in their arms inside of it. Some attempted to bury the dead, but Yoren forbid it. To not let anyone know they had been here. While seeing the first massacres had made some of them vomit, including Hot Pie, that had stopped the fourth day.

No one would admit it, but they all felt themselves blunting to the sights. It made them sick of themselves and Arya felt her courage and fierceness fade away. She couldn’t tell how often a day she recited her teacher’s lessons now. _Fear cuts deeper than swords. Calm as still water. Strong as a bear. Fierce as a wolverine. Fear cuts deeper than swords._ Gendry heard her whispering Syrio’s words before sleep, but never said anything. She could see he tried to stay strong and didn’t want her to know he was afraid, too. She was grateful he tried.

The past two fortnights that he had slept right next to her, Arya had had less trouble sleeping. Having him there seemed to have helped with the nightmares and put an end to her sleep-crying. _It felt good. Safe. Almost like having Robb and Jon here_ , she had thought. But the day they had passed by that sept had effected both of them the following night. Gendry had seemed unable to find any sleep while Arya had had a nightmare worse than any before; jumbling memories from King’s Landing with those from the village. He had shaken her awake and held her hand in his to soothe her afterwards. They must have fallen asleep then and had woken up to Arya being all nestled up against his chest come sunrise. She had felt embarrassed and apologized. But he had only smiled and assured, it would be fine. After the following nightmare Gendry had offered her to huddle against him again and pulled her into his arms when she had nodded. Their growing anxiety in these war-torn lands led to them finding themselves snuggled together more often now. Both seemed to rest easier this way. _Knowing they were not alone_.

Lommy and Hot Pie felt that need to not sleep alone as well. Even they had fallen silent. One could barely hear them chatting nonsense now. _She missed it_. When they would set up camp the two boys took to them, placing their blankets next to theirs. Apparently they felt safer around people with swords, but didn’t want to cling to Yoren, yet. It made a bit of Arya’s courage return, having someone relying on her.

Yoren had ordered to put up as many campfires as possible by nightfall. To make their numbers look more. And so they did. But when Lommy suggested to also have one in their little lair of four, Arya and Gendry both refused. “It would only blind us to what’s happening in the woods and make us sitting ducks for arrows.” Arya had explained. Lommy swallowed loudly and Hot Pie was busy getting the slingshot perfected, he had worked on the past few days. Arya had seen him practicing while one of the carts was stuck in the mud again. He was actually quite good with it.

Later that evening, Yoren had come by, looking at Gendry, “Lad, I need to talk to you.” and then had glanced at Arya who had made a move to follow, “ _Alone_.” He motioned Gendry aside, out of her earshot. Offended that she had been excluded Arya had followed them with her eyes, watching closely. Whatever Yoren had said, Gendry hadn’t liked it. She had seen him shaking his head stubbornly. “What do you think it’s about?” Hot Pie had wondered. “Maybe he’s stolen something.” Lommy had suggested. “ _He’s no thief!_ ” Arya had retorted defensively. Yoren had seemed to wait for an answer then and Gendry had been looking to the side. Clearly upset. Before he had looked back at Yoren and nodded angrily. Whatever he had agreed to, he hadn’t liked it. Though, Yoren had seemed satisfied, when he walked away.

 “What did he want?” Arya had asked when Hot Pie and Lommy were asleep. “Asked a favour.” Gendry had growled. “What favour?” she had wanted to know. “Can’t tell.” he had claimed. “Is it about _me?_ ” she had asked. _She knew it_. “Not everything is about _you!_ ” Gendry had replied with a warning tone in his voice. She hadn’t been sure if she should believe him, but didn’t want to push him as long as he was angry. Like last time, when he had turned the tables so quick on her. “You don’t like it, don’t you?” she had stated then. “That’s the thing about favours. One usually doesn’t like doing them.” he had explained. “But you will do it?” she had asked. “ _Yes_.” he had proclaimed sullenly. _She didn’t like it either,_ though not knowing what it was. But for now, she wouldn’t push about it. He had enough on his mind.

One morning a few days later, they travelled north along the Gods Eye’s western shore seeing a towerhouse from afar, placed on top of a rock above a small port. _A sight of hope_ , they had thought, but it was not. The town was deserted like so many before. Yoren ordered ten recruits to stay with the carts and the rest of them should go and search the town in small groups, looking for boats and supplies while he went to the tower house.

All they found were a rotting rowboat, some holey sails and buckets with hard tar and Yoren returned from the holdfast reporting the same; men, animals and boats all missing. Arya didn’t like it, “They left for a reason. _We shouldn’t stay here!_ ” she urged. But Yoren wouldn’t listen, “Those people are at war. _We’re not_. Watch doesn’t take sides.” he replied, but then admitted, “I had hoped to find some boats ‘ere, so we wouldn’t need to go long way round the lake.” Gendry suggested, “What about rafts? We could make them.” and the former carpenter agreed; it was still early in the morning, if they would start right away they could be poling north the day after morrow, he said. “Would mean to leave the wagons and animals behind. But, yes, we could reach the northern shore within two days then.” Yoren agreed. No one wanted to listen to her warning. _Fools!_

Yoren left the carpenter in charge of the raft building, who put all to work, except the three in the cage and the poachers. The men needed some meat in their stew tonight, so Yoren sent them to hunt. Everyone else was busy with their tasks before midday. Some men were tying ropes, like Lommy, some were building the rafts with the carpenter, but most were lumbering in the woods, while Gendry was in the town’s smithy and Hot Pie assisted him with the bellows. _Why didn’t he ask her?_ She wouldn’t need to leave to cook as soon as the poachers would return. She felt offended. Until Yoren told her to help him with the cart horses dragging the logs to shore. At first, the men lumbering and maybe even Yoren had doubted she could manage. _All so strong with their muscles, yet, so stupid in the heads. Belittling her._ She untaught them, when they saw her work the horses – keeping them calm and steady on the bumpy terrain, steering them safely out of the woods down to shore. All alone. She liked the task, being on horseback lifted her spirit immediately. _Like old times. At home._

By nightfall men and beast retreated dog-tired to the holdfast. It was simple, just a towerhouse framed with battlements with a wooden catwalk and the barn of stone in the yard, big enough to shelter all townfolk. Though the battlements weren’t mortared, the gate was strong. Only the small postern was cause of concern, it was the holdfast’s weak spot. They even found a trap in the barn’s ground leading through a small tunnel down to shore. Yoren made them pull the cart with the three prisoners onto it, when they closed the gate and postern for the night and ordered the poachers to stay in the towerhouse, to signal if someone would approach. The rest of them was assembled in the barn, gulping down the stew Hot Pie had prepared and Yoren advised everyone to take a second share. Arya and the three boys retreated to a few pallets of straw afterwards to get some sleep before it was their turn to keep watch. With the other recruits so close, Arya refrained from snuggling against Gendry and kept her distance. _No need to make anyone wonder about anything_. Plus, he had doubted her strength today, she first had to prove him wrong. _Because he was wrong!_

This night Arya dreamed of a wolf howling. _Warning her!_ And was awake at once, shaking Gendry and Hot Pie next to her. “Wake up! Didn’t you hear?” she said and then louder, “Everyone, _wake up!_ Something is wrong!” “Hear what?” Gendry asked dozy, but putting on his boots and grabbing his things like she did, while others had just begun to stir. “ _A wolf._ Howling. Warning us!” she stated and some recruits began laughing. Laughing at her. Belittling her, too. She ignored them, “ _It’s true!_ It’s a warning cry.” she pleaded, looking at Gendry. He nodded, “Let’s check!” Hot Pie and Lommy followed their example and the moment they stepped out of the barn, they all heard the poachers’ signal. _Someone was coming._

They stormed up to the catwalk to see a monstrous worm of yellow and orange crawling from the woods. _Riders_ _with torches!_ It must have been hundreds of them. _The blazed sky had finally caught up to them_ , she realized, _tonight it would be them who would lighten it red_. Arya reached for Gendry’s hand and he squeezed hers reassuringly, holding on to it. _You wanted to be a warrior_ , she thought sarcastically, _now you get the chance. So be one!_ Yoren came by, looking at Gendry, “You know what to do?!” He only nodded. “You two stay together!” he said to her, patting her shoulder before he went to the gate. She was preparing herself, “ _Fear cuts deeper than swords. Calm as still water. Fierce as a wolverine. Strong as a bear.”_ she said, loud enough for the boys next to her to hear, before she reached over for Hot Pie’s hand, too, signalling him she would stand by his side.

Then the torches started flying onto the roofs, and what had looked like one giant orange worm a minute ago was now like angry wasps swarming out. Setting fire to anything they came across. Yoren was shouting commands, as they watched the town go up in flames. _They shouldn’t have stayed here, she knew it!_ The main column of riders moved straight to the holdfast and a knight rode forth to the gate, demanding it to be opened in the name of the king. _Not my king_ , she thought defiantly. “Town folk’s gone! All I got ‘ere is lads for the Watch. We got no part in your war!” Yoren replied, standing on the battlement, swaying his black coat. The knight threatened the gate to be opened to prove they wouldn’t be rebels or else they would attack. “Can’t they see we’re no rebels?” Hot Pie asked frightened. “ _They don’t care._ ” Gendry stated, glaring at the men outside. Fire was reflecting in his eyes, making him look older and fiercer. _Like a true warrior_ , Arya thought. Lommy didn’t believe him, “But if we do as they say-” “ _They won’t kill us!?_ ” Gendry asked in a threatening tone. “ _Look with your eyes,_ Lommy! We fight or we die here!” She said and let go of Hot Pie’s hand, drawing Needle. “ _The man who fears losing has already lost._ ” she said to them and herself.

Within minutes later blazing arrows flew above their heads. Thank the gods the barn’s roof was slate, or else they would be doomed right away. Gendry drew his sword then, “They’re coming! Climbing up.” Arya let go of his hand, he would need it now. But he held onto hers, “ _Stay close!_ ” he said, before he let go. The first man Arya saw on the battlement was climbing up where Hot Pie was posted, who froze in fear. So she leapt in front of him, slitting the fingers of both the climber’s hands, “ _Fight, Hot Pie!_ ” she shouted, before whirling back to her post where another climber just drew his shortsword ready to stab at her or Gendry. But they were quicker. Gendry was slicing off his swordhand before she drew Needle across the man’s throat, then diving underneath the flush of blood, picking up his sword and whirling back to Hot Pie, putting it into his hands.

Right in time. The next man was climbing up and she sliced one hand and told Hot Pie to do the same with the other. Before she turned back to her post. Gendry had pushed down her kill from before and was fending off the following attackers. But it was no use, somewhere else their enemy had soon managed to climb over and two men were cutting down recruits on the catwalk. Gendry charged at them, leaving Arya to defend both their posts. She checked on Hot Pie, who seemed to manage now, hacking and slicing at hands and heads as soon as they had reached the top of the battlement. _Good_. But then she realized Lommy was gone. _No!_ She had no time to look for him, had to whirl back to slash and stab at the next climbers. Then glancing over to Gendry, seeing him fight the men on the catwalk, trying to get to the spot where they had broken through. As she had suspected back when Yoren had handed him the Gold Cloak’s sword, Gendry knew how to wield it. _One less to worry about! Good._

She focused on her post and Hot Pie again. “ _Where is Lommy?_ ” she shouted in between her kills, before whirling to Hot Pie who had to fight off two climbers then. “ _Yard!_ ” Hot Pie yelled. When they had sent the men both back over the battlement she returned to her post slicing off more fingers and stabbing through the visor of the following climber. Then another quick glance at Gendry, who was gaining ground on the catwalk, allowing the untrained recruits between them to fend off their posts. Until she heard Hot Pie scream, she whirled around, seeing him stumbling backwards into her direction, ineptly fighting off a man charging at him. Another breach. _Damn_.

She shoved Needle and herself in between them, shouting “ _Hold my post!_ ” Catching the opponent by surprise with her water dancing. He was struggling to defend himself against this to him unknown fighting style. She was dodging a blow of his, moving behind him, slashing at the hollows of his knees, then stabbing the following attacker into his throat, turning her blade, ripping it out, and whirling back to stab the first one, too. Gendry held his post and so did Hot Pie, as well as the other recruits between them. But then the enemy broke through the postern and Yoren shouted. “ _Retreat!_ _To the barn! Retreat!_ ”

She fought off the attackers charging at her but was giving way now, moving backwards, letting Hot Pie and the others one by one jump down into the yard, closing the gap between her and Gendry. “ _Get down, Arry!_ ” he shouted. She whirled around slashing for one last time, checking if he would manage to retreat, too. “ _Now!_ ” Gendry yelled and jumped and so did she, landing the way Syrio Forel had taught her. Immediately whirling around again, letting Needle slice some more hollows of knees before she ran towards Gendry.

The men who had broken through the postern managed soon to fight their way to the main gate and opened it. Leaving the recruits no escape exit, except for the trap.

Yoren was still in the middle of the yard, fighting, when Arya and Gendry fought their way towards the now smoking barn, calling him to retreat as well. But he only shouted, “ _Lad, do as you promised! Now!_ ” and Gendry grabbed Arya’s arm and pulled her into barn. Where Lommy and Hot Pie were fighting the straw on fire with some others. “ _The animals! We’ve to free them!_ ” she shouted. “ _They’ll trample down everyone?!_ ” Gendry replied bewildered. “ _Exactly!_ ” she yelled, already slicing through ropes and bridles and reins, “ _Step back from the entrance, recruits!_ ” Gendry shouted and others followed their example, yelling “ _Watch out! The animals!_ ” The donkeys and horses ran for their lives, trampling down whoever stood in their way, charging through the gate and even managed to unhorse Ser Amory Lorch.

Arya was about to run after them, to help Yoren, when she heard Jaqen H’ghar calling, “Good boys, kind boys! Help us! _We can fight!_ ” Fire was licking at their cart. Arya whirled around, looking for anything to free them. Then remembering the axe that had been used to split the wood for supper, it was right outside the barn’s entrance and she ran. “ _Arry, no!_ ” Gendry yelled, and ran after her, fighting off Lorch’s men while she wrenched the axe free, before returning back into the thick smoking barn. She threw the axe into the cage and turned, about to run out into the yard again, to Yoren. But Gendry had been right behind her and grasped her by the waist, dragging her to the trap. She fought him, screaming, “ _Let go off me!_ _We’ve to help Yoren!_ ” But Gendry was too strong and wrestled her down, “ _No!_ ” he said. “ _We can’t leave him here!_ ” she shrieked. “ _We have to!_ _He made me promise!_ ” Gendry shouted and threw both their blades down the trap before he let himself drop, dragging her down with him. She was crying now. Down in the trap he shook her, “ _We have to get out! Now!_ ” He put their blades into their scabbards and shoved her into the tunnel, which was so narrow they had to crawl. Having him right behind, blocking any way back into the barn, she had only one way to go. Forward.

When they reached the end of the tunnel at shore, Gendry grabbed her leg, to prevent her from running right back to the holdfast’s gate and as soon as he was out of the tunnel himself, he gathered her in his arms. She fought him, hissing, “ _You let him die! Craven!_ ” But he only pressed her closer to his chest, “He made me promise to keep you safe, no matter what would happen to him or the others! _And I will!_ ” Gendry told her, “If you want to call me craven for that, _fine!_ ” She went limp in his arms then and began to sob.

He picked her up, “We have to leave! All four of us! Come on, Hot Pie, Lommy, let’s go!” Both boys had sat by the tunnel, waiting for them, tired and shocked at what had happened tonight. But they got up unquestioningly and followed him, when he carried Arya towards the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got no idea about fighting, so I am sorry, I didn't manage to describe a realistic or exciting fight.
> 
> Lommy is safe for now. But not forever.
> 
> In my story the barn’s roof is slate and not thatch. Since I find it quite nonsense to build oneself a holdfast of stone and then build a huge barn amidst of it with a thatched roof. One blazing arrow and everything is on fire, making people rather run into the blades of attackers than die inside a fiery hell.


	8. Sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya needs a bit to recover from losing Yoren, the only person who knows her true identity. But when she feels better they return to the holdfast, to restock their supplies and arming before they travel on. Heading north again. Hot Pie and Lommy start to evolve and the group of four become friends for good now. Until one day the two boys see something and get scared, falling back into old patterns. But Arya just ignores them and was right in doing so, she has a visitor at night.

He couldn’t tell for how long or how far he had carried her now. They were following a deer pass, Hot Pie walking in front of them, to warn of roots and holes on their way and Lommy walked close behind, listening from time to time if someone would follow. Apparently the two boys had understood Arya needed them now.

However, Gendry couldn’t go on for much longer, his arms were tiring. When he had picked her up outside the tunnel she was still sobbing. But she was calmer now, so he dared to say, “Arry, I could need your help now, orientating ourselves through these woods.” Though she didn’t respond, she lifted her head and loosened her arms around his neck, allowing him to put her feet back on the ground. “We have to find a place to hide when dawn breaks. We need to rest.” He announced for all three to hear and flexed his muscles, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

Gendry held her hand afterwards, to ensure she stayed with them, while he led their way further into the woods for about three more hours; they only stopped once at a small brook, before they came across several overthrown trees lying one upon the other, with thick bushes growing around. Instead of going through them, creating evidence of their presence, they climbed up onto the trunks and let themselves drop down in the midst. Arya had remained silent until then, when she offered to keep first watch. Though Gendry feared, she would run right back to the holdfast, he was too exhausted to fight her then, “ _Promise, you won’t do anything stupid!_ ” he pleaded with her. Hot Pie and Lommy watched her, understanding what he had meant to say. “ _I won’t!_ ” she replied looking at them and then him, “I’m sorry for calling you a craven. _You’re not._ I just wished-” she had tears in her eyes again. “I know. Me, too.” he said, before closing his eyes, hoping she would see reason.

When Lommy shook him awake, it was afternoon, he startled, unable to remember when he had last slept that deep. Yet, when he felt her stirring in his arms, he relaxed instantly. She was still here and so were the boys. _Thank the gods_. According to Lommy, Arya had ordered them to skip him on their first round of watch. He snorted amused. She could have just thanked him for the carrying. But no, she rather returned the favour. Lommy was looking at him curiously, as if he had something on his mind, but didn’t dare to ask. “Go sleep. I’ll keep watch now.” Gendry said. The boy was barely recognizable, with his blond hair almost as dark as his own. Though they had washed their hands and faces earlier at the brook, the rest of them was still covered in blood and grime and mud. Making them look like they felt, as if they had been to hell and back.

_How did that happen?_ All Gendry ever wanted was to be a smith. Well, there had been a time when he had wanted to be a knight, when he was little. After all he had a talent for fighting, but it was nothing compared to his gift as a smith. He had known that even before Tobho Mott had called him his best apprentice. All he would have needed was a few more moon’s turns to complete his apprenticeship with him. _But no!_ His drunken fool of a careless father had to get himself killed. _By a fucking boar!_ Making for Gendry to flee the capital as Night’s Watch recruit, only to get caught between enemy lines in some war and now being in charge of three younger recruits. On top of that, the youngest was actually a girl and the fool he was, he had promised to keep her safe. _How was he supposed to do that? With a war going on here?_ But he would do it. _He owed Yoren._ He had saved him from Lannister henchmen, thrice now.

_And he had left the man behind to die_ , Gendry thought. It had felt good to hear her say, she didn’t think him a craven. Since he felt just like that. A coward. In his mind remorse fought reason. He had done what Yoren had asked him. Gotten her out of there. Saved her. And himself. He could have gone back afterwards. To die alongside Yoren. Leaving her unprotected. He didn’t like to admit, but in the end the choice to leave and not turn back had been easier than he had expected _. She meant more to him than the old man_. Getting her out was more important than saving him. Though, Gendry hated himself for weighing one life against another, he knew he would do it again.

_What was he supposed to do now?_ He decided to consult Arya. As stubborn as she was, not including her would only complicate things anyway and aside from a few impulsive moments, she had proven to be quite thoughtful for her young age. In truth, _she had done great last night._ Except for the last part, when he had made her leave Yoren behind, she hadn’t even flinched. _Not once!_ He hadn’t doubted she could fight since she had attacked Hot Pie; but never imagined she would be that good. It was amazing. She must have been trained for years and it made him wonder, _what else had she been taught?_

When his watch was over, he had woken her, saying they would need to talk. Last night they had left everything behind, except the clothes they were wearing and their two swords. They needed supplies and arming, so there was no way getting around going back. They had agreed to do so the next morning. By then Lorch and his marauders should be gone. _Off to the next town to burn and butcher_ , Gendry thought angrily.

Afterwards they had woken Hot Pie and Lommy to go find that brook they could hear burbling along from their lair. When they had satisfied their thirst, Arya had claimed she would wander upstream to catch some fish as long as they would wash themselves. Lommy had been asking if she would come back. Gendry hadn’t doubted she would. Surprisingly to him she had actually brought some fish on her return about an hour later. Explaining, she would have used her shirt as net. _Smart_. Hot Pie’s eyes had lit up. Gendry had reprimanded the boy earlier for picking herbs before he even knew they would get any fish.

After they had gulped them down they had informed Hot Pie and Lommy about their plan to go back. Both had protested, calling them mad, but Gendry had put an end to that, saying, they wouldn’t have to come, they could stay here and wait for them to return. Fearing they would be left behind, both had followed them back to town come sunrise.

They had gone back along the shore, coming across their burnt rafts. _All their work had been for nothing_. “You were right. We shouldn’t have stayed here!” Gendry admitted. “Lorch could have surprised us on the road just as well. And there we wouldn’t have had a trap to escape. We could be all dead now.” Arya appeased. It felt good to see her spirit return to its old strength. Before they entered the holdfast, they took a deep breath. Lorch had left everyone to rot, right where they had died. _Monster._ In the middle of the yard, where they had seen him last, they found Yoren, surrounded by four dead Lannister men, and a quarrel to his heart. _Cowards! Couldn’t take him down like real men!_ They agreed to bury at least him, he deserved that much for saving them. But first they needed to restock their supplies and arming.

They had to thank Arya. If it hadn’t been for her warning before the attack, their bundles would have been burnt and buried beneath the collapsed barn roof just like the rest of the supplies. Now they found most where they had left it, apart from some blood stains and dirt everything seemed untouched. Lorch had indeed only come to murder them.

They searched the towerhouse and the dead for anything that could prove useful; taking dirks, knives, wineskins, cords and coin. Hot Pie brought a small kettle and bowls and spoons from the kitchen and Gendry advised the boys to each take a shortsword or a spear, resulting in them taking both. _Good_ , Gendry smiled. Arya and he had gone to the towerhouse, returning with two bows and quivers before picking up any arrow they could find. They would have to go hunting now, since they couldn’t find any food supplies.

At last they buried Yoren in the soft ground of a garden and Arya had carved his name into her wooden training sword, marking his grave, saying, “And now his watch has ended.” _How come she knows that_ _phrase_ , Gendry had wondered. When they left the place, he had asked where to go and her determined response had been, “ _North!_ ” She urged them to a quick pace as if she feared some secret time slot would be closing soon; they followed deer passes to stay off the road and mostly travelled in silence since he and Arya tried to hunt.

Though, both had been trained with a bow, they had trouble using one now. He lacked the practice from not having shot one in years and she lacked a bit the strength, since both bows were constructed for grown men. On the second day he had gotten so mad for being so rusty, he had grabbed Lommy’s spear and thrown it at some rabbit only to miss by two feet as well. Arya patiently corrected his small posture mistakes and their empty bellies were good teachers as well; at the end of the third day he had finally managed to shoot some pheasant. Hot Pie and Lommy had cheered, before they remembered they were still on the run. From then on he was lucky more often and also Arya managed to hit her target. The fact that the bows had been constructed for grown men had only fuelled her stubbornness to prove otherwise. Hot Pie had hugged her after her first hit and both boys had asked to be taught to shoot a bow that day. So Arya gave them some lessons when they would set up camp for the night. But she agreed with Gendry, who insisted they first of all would need to practice the basics of sword fighting.

He wouldn’t have thought he could actually befriend these two fools, but the more they evolved, leaving the naïve Flea Bottom gutter rats behind, the more he liked having them around and not only because it made all their lives easier the more they could contribute. The first time in days when their old selves came through was when they suddenly stood in front of a weirwood tree. _A heart tree_. Both boys had called it a demon tree and wanted to leave, but Arya made no move, looking at the carved face in awe, absently whispering, “Mother was right.” before she turned and announced, “We’ll stay here for the night!” Of course then the two were freaking out, pleading with Gendry to bring her to terms. But he wasn’t listening, he smiled, seeing his suspicion confirmed. “The Old Gods are watching over us here, we’ll be safe tonight.” Arya tried to appease them. But they wouldn’t have it and declared they wouldn’t stay anywhere within eyeshot of this face. Arya just retorted, “Fine! But I will.” and sat down in front of the tree. Gendry laughed at all three of them, asking if he would have to bend them over the knee now. “You watch out, I don’t bend you over the knee!” Arya retorted, offended. Hot Pie begged him to pick her up and carry her again, so they could get away from here. But instead Gendry confirmed, no harm would come to them here and asked them to calm themselves. But they wouldn’t listen. _Unbelievable_. In the end they agreed that Hot Pie and Lommy would camp on the far side of the carved face, hidden behind some bushes.

“Thank you.” Arya said, when she huddled against him, as soon as he sat down next to her, leaning against the trunk. “So, you’re from the North?” he asked forthrightly, hoping not to overstep any boundries. She looked up at him, though not lifting her head from his chest, “What makes you think that?” Her smile proving she wouldn’t freak out. “Um, don’t know. Maybe because you follow the Old Gods? Or because you know the words of the Night’s Watch?” Her smile widened. He snorted amused, “So much for no one can lie in front of a heart tree, huh?” She chuckled, “ _I’m not lying!_ ” “Why Riverrun or Greywater Watch?” he dared to ask then. “What do you mean?” she furrowed her brow. “Yoren told me to take you to one of those places. Saying you would know what to do then.” he explained, but she only lowered her gaze and remained silent. “I thought, Yoren was taking you to your brother?” he continued asking, trying to put the few pieces together Yoren and Arya had given him. “He was…” she confirmed.

“And what do you think where we should go?” he wanted to know. “Greywater Watch.” she said, “But I can go there myself. I release you from that stupid promise.” “You can’t release me from a promise I’ve given someone else.” he laughed. “ _I can_ , if it’s about me!” she claimed.  “No need for that. Got nowhere else to go to anyway…” he said unable to hide the bitterness in his voice. “What about your home?” she asked looking up at him again. “Um, the closest thing to a home would be Raventree Hall. But they’re at war with the Lannisters now. The last they need is a bastard of the old king returning to put another target on their back.” he sighed, “Probably best, I join the Night’s Watch after all. Plus, then I would get to meet that brother of yours!” “ _I’ll come with you!_ ” she said, a light flickering in her eyes. “What about Greywater Watch?” he asked. “I just have to send a message from there.” she explained, “Then we can go on to Castle Black. Visit _Jon_.” She was sparkling with joy at the thought of that, “And uncle Benjen! He’s First Ranger.” _She suddenly seemed so young_.

“You miss them.” he stated the obvious and unconsciously began caressing her arm lain across his belly. “Haven’t seen them in over a year. Since I was made to leave.” she sounded sad now, “ _To marry that little shit!_ ” and then furious. He blinked surprised, “ _You were married?_ ” “ _NO!_ Of course not!” she retorted with a dark smirk on her face, “Convinced the little shit and his mother I was all but marriage material. I can be quite the pain in the ass, if you haven’t noticed!” He chuckled and teased, “ _You!?_ No…” and earned himself a playful punch.

After a while she bubbled along, “You know, _Jon_ _looks like me._ Well, I look like him. Since he’s older. Turning twenty end of the year. How old are you?” “Eight and ten.” “Then you’re younger!” she looked surprised. “A year, it seems. And you?” “Four and ten.” So she wasn’t as young as he had believed. “You sometimes remind me of him.” she admitted. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” he said, grinning, and she went on, “But you’re taller and more, um, stronger. More like… _Robb_.” her smile was fading and she swallowed. He furrowed his brow. “He’s fighting the Lannisters. With the Northern Army. That’s why I have to send him a message, tell him I’m alive. Going home. So he can come home, too.” she tried to explain. “And Robb is …?” “ _My brother!_ The eldest.” she said, as if it should have been obvious, “He’s also twenty soon.” “So, they’re twins? Him and Jon?” Gendry asked, after doing the math. “No! Jon’s a bastard.” He was just about to feel offended, thinking him being a bastard was what reminded her of Jon, when she stated, “But we don’t care! _He’s one of us. Our brother_.” “Arya,” he began, she was looking up at him again, her head still on his chest, “you’re amazing.” Though, it was too dark to see it by then, he was sure, she was blushing and before he knew, he had placed a kiss on her forehead and pulled her closer into his arms, wishing he had siblings like her … _instead of that little shit!_

And then they heard it, “ _Sister?_ ” a voice said, distant and yet right behind them. Both of them stood instantly, facing the direction of the voice, the heart tree. He had pulled her behind him and drawn his sword, shielding her, when they heard it again, “ _Sister!_ ” “Bran?” she asked, apparently recognising the voice and stepped forth. He looked at her in shock, seeing her walk towards the carved face, touching the wood, “Bran, is that you?” _she asked_ _the tree._ “Yes.” _and the tree answered!_ Gendry felt dizzy, convinced he was dreaming. “I’m fine. I’m coming home. I’m in the Riverlands. _Tell Robb!_ ” she pleaded then, “And mother not to worry.” “I will.” the tree spoke again. “Thank you, oh gods, thank you!” she said, before turning to him, tears running down her cheeks, but her face was beaming with joy and hope.

Gendry was losing his poise. “ _Arya! You were talking to a tree!_ _What was that!?_ ” “My brother. Greenseeing” she said, smiling. “You can’t possibly believe _that_ was your brother?” Gendry declared, “Greenseers, that’s just stories from old times.” “ _Apparently they’re not!_ ” she retorted happily, before reciting, “Only one in a thousand is born a skinchanger and only one skinchanger in a thousand is born a greenseer.” He looked puzzled. She explained, “Happens my brother is a skinchanger. Runs in the family.”

“ _What does that even mean?_ ” he demanded to know. “Means he can enter the mind of an animal and control its actions.” she explained. He furrowed his brow and then he remembered, “ _The wolf!_ The one that warned you!?” he asked, “ _Was that your brother?_ ” She shook her head, and then it dawned on him. _Runs in the family_. “ _You?_ ” he stared at her in disbelief. She nodded and explained, “A wolfdream. Though, an accidental one … You can’t tell anyone!” _Gods, that girl’s secrets start to pile up_. “You saw how Hot Pie and Lommy freaked out, just seeing the tree!” she pleaded and when he still didn’t respond, she vowed, “ _I won’t harm you!_ Or the boys! I promise.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About Arya’s backstory: I thought since everyone claims she would look like Lyanna, I doubted that Robert would want Sansa to marry Joffrey, after he had seen this resemblance himself. Why not Sansa? Well, I truly hated how long Sansa was stuck in King’s Landing, being a victim. In my story Ned didn’t allow Catelyn or septa Mordane to turn Sansa into a braindead doll. She is a true lady, but a smart one, you’ll see that in the following chapter.
> 
> About Gendry's backstory: In my story he is one of three acknowledged bastards (Mya Stone, him and Edric Storm). Barra would have been acknowledged, if Jon Arryn hadn't died a year before her birth and Ned sadly found her too late to get her acknowledged. Bella is not, because Jon Arryn just didn’t know about her. Since the other bastards are unknown, I decided they’re not acknowledged as well. But the three acknowledged ones were taken care of, each got a certain education and would have been given a bit of land and a title when they would have come of age, if their father had lived that long. And for the boys Arryn intended they would be knighted at some point. So like Edric also Gendry (including his mother) was sent to some lord to be raised as a ward. Now which house could that be? I thought quite while about it:  
> It couldn’t be a house in the Westerlands or Crownlands, since Cersei killing the bastard twins of Casterly Rock was the reason Jon Arryn decided to send Gendry away from the Lannisters’ reach.  
> It couldn’t be a house in the North, because Gendry would then have either known Arya and her siblings from the start (and that would have blown my story) or he would have soon come to the conclusion that she is Arya Stark. So in my story, the explanation that Gendry wasn’t raised in the North is, that Ned Stark claimed to not want to burden Catelyn with another bastard, but in truth he wanted to keep Jon Arryn and Robert away from Jon Snow.  
> It couldn’t be a house in Dorne, since there bastards are too well respected and then Gendry wouldn’t have all that funny little daddy issues of his.  
> It couldn’t be a house in the Reach, since Gendry is clearly not the type for perfumes and fancy armours, and nobody wants to be raised by the likes of Randyll Tarly either.  
> So only the Stormlands, the Vale and the Riverlands remained as an option. And so I thought, since both the Vale and the Stormlands each already raise a bastard of Robert, I wanted Gendry to be not raise there as well. I’d like him to meet his siblings later.  
> So I chose a house of the Riverlands, since that could also fit into all that Arya / Brotherhood Without Banners storyline, if he knew a bit about the area. And so I came up with House Blackwood of Raventree Hall. Why this house? Because they follow Robb Stark and the Tullys till the bitter end, they also loose a son at the Red Wedding, they believe in the Old Gods, so Gendry can know a bit about Arya’s faith and most of all, Lord Tytos Blackwood has quite a bunch of sons, some of them of similar age with Gendry and what I read about Tytos he sounds like the type of man, who would respect and support it, when his young ward comes to him and decides to rather be a smith than a knight. So Gendry in my story was raised as ward to Tytos Blackwood and apprenticed in the castle’s forge but the last three years he had apprenticed for Tobho Mott. Jon Arryn didn’t like having him back under Cersei’s nose. But Gendry’s ambition in forging and his stubbornness left Arryn no choice but to allow it.


	9. Lady of Winterfell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa tells her part of the story. Explaining in flashbacks how and when things had gone wrong for her family and how they had coped with the things that happened and how she finds out greenseeing is not just a myth from old times.

Olenna Tyrell had invited her to visit Highgarden, to keep her granddaughter Margaery company. But Sansa had understood the Queen of Thorns’ actual intention had been to introduce her to Willas, her oldest grandson and heir to Highgarden. Though Willas was more than ten years older, she and her parents had agreed she should use the opportunity to spend time in the South and get to know the lifestyle there. Her father had promised her, if she would want to marry Willas, he would give her his blessing. But had also remarked he would support her, if she should choose not to, or rather someone else. She had hugged him fiercely then, thanking him. The following moon’s turns she had spent preparing for the journey and her mother had ordered her the finest fabrics so she could make dresses in the southern fashion. Yet, Sansa also wanted to spend as much time with her siblings as possible, since she had feared, she might leave Winterfell for good. But fate had other plans.

A few moon’s turns later a raven from the capital had come, announcing the Hand of the King, Jon Arryn, had died and the King would be on his way to Winterfell. Her parents had immediately understood what this meant. Though, when the king and half his court had finally arrived, things had taken a turn Sansa couldn’t have imagined. Not because the king hadn’t looked a bit the handsome young warrior her father had always described, but actually had been a fat old drunk. No, Robert had clumsily stepped out of the royal carriage, walked up to her parents, greeted them cordially and then had turned to look at their children and had frozen. The way he had looked at her younger sister, not even thirteen at the time, had alarmed her. Her older brothers and parents as well. While Arya, all fierce and clever, yet, so young and innocent, hadn’t even understood what was happening. The king had greeted Sansa and her siblings, but his eyes had kept wandering towards Arya, staring at her in awe. And so had the queen’s glance, only her eyes could barely hide her hatred.

Her sister had always been a tomboy, not at all interested in becoming a lady, and their father had supported her. He had only insisted she had to learn the basic courtesies of a highborn lady, because that was what their status required. Apart from that he had let her be the wild spirit she was. Ned Stark hadn’t wanted any of his children feel like birds in a golden cage. Like his sister had been. But then the man, who Lyanna had run from, had stood again in the courtyard of Winterfell, this time staring at her sister, as if she was Lyanna reborn. It was true, even their father had said so, Arya seemed to turn into the spitting image of Lyanna. But he had never failed to remark, though both had some traits in common, Arya was Arya. Not Lyanna. Only their king had seemed to not understand that.

He had gone down their family’s crypts, visiting Lyanna’s grave and down there he had told their father he would want him as his new Hand and also that he would intend to join houses, since he would have a son and their father would have _a daughter_ , his mind obviously already set on Arya. _A drunken fool indeed!_ Her sister was all but marriage material, and least a suitable bride for a future king. _Arya would die, if she would be damned to such a life._ She was not interested into birthing heirs or running castles. _It would be the cruellest thing one could do to her._

In the end their father had agreed to become Robert’s new Hand, on the condition that Arya and Joffrey wouldn’t be betrothed, yet, but that Arya would accompany him to court for a year or two, so she and Joffrey could get to know each other. And should they both then agree, their betrothal could be announced and they could be married when Arya would turn sixteen. Robert hadn’t liked it. He would have rather seen them married right away. But when Cersei had stated, on this condition, she would agree as well, the king hadn’t had much of choice and accepted. Obviously convinced, his son couldn’t resist a fierce Northern she-wolf. Since he himself had still been smitten with one, though a dead one. And the fool Robert had been, he had believed time at court would turn Arya into an obedient little princess. _A wolf can’t be tamed!_ Robert had been the only person in Winterfell who hadn’t realised that. Just like he had misjudged their aunt. He still had been oblivious to the fact, that Lyanna had eloped to avoid their marriage. And if she had lived and married him, he probably would hate her even more than Cersei by now.

When they had told Arya ‘the good news’, she had ranted and raved, claiming she would stab all of them, if they so much as dare to look at her again; and their brothers including Theon had offered to help her with that. It had been Sansa, who had brought them to terms. Asking all of them, if they hadn’t understood their father had left a huge loophole for Arya in his agreement with the king. She had told her little sister then, all she would have to do in King’s Landing was being herself, “Just be the biggest pain in the ass those Southerners have ever seen!” And soon Arya sat in midst of them, smirking and telling them how she would teach those stupid perfumed idiots down south what a true Northern she-wolf was. They all had been convinced Arya would be back in Winterfell within a year. Robert would probably banish her himself, forbidding her to cross the Neck ever again, they had joked.

But then Bran had _‘fallen’_ from the Broken Tower and wouldn’t wake for a moon’s turn. Both his legs had been broken, though Maester Luwin had been able to fix them, he couldn’t wake him, saying only Bran himself could do that. Robert, that lousy excuse of a king, hadn’t wanted to wait any longer and had dragged both their father and their sister south, before Bran had opened his eyes again. Arya had cried, promising them to be back soon and Sansa had promised to visit her on her way to Highgarden.

Jon had left them as well that day, gone with uncle Benjen, to join the Night’s Watch. His decision had taken them all by surprise and none of them could change his mind. Not even their mother. Jon’s mind had been set, claiming uncle Benjen had joined the Watch voluntarily, and he would want to follow this tradition of sons of house Stark manning the Wall. _Maybe Arya could have stopped him, if she had stayed._

Sansa would have left Winterfell the year after, but that plan had been destroyed by the cowardly assassination attempt on Bran, proving what they all had known deep in their hearts. Bran hadn’t fallen. He had been pushed. So instead of her, their mother had left. To consult their father in King’s Landing and hadn’t returned since. So end of the year Sansa had sent word to Highgarden, informing them with a heavy heart that she couldn’t leave Winterfell as long as their mother hadn’t returned. With both their parents and also Jon gone, she hadn’t wanted to leave Robb. He had told her, she shouldn’t miss her opportunity to see the South, but when she had proclaimed she would stay to help him, she had seen the relief in his eyes.

Sansa hadn’t had much time to regret her decision, since things had gone south quite soon then for their family. Though Bran had woken up and been alright aside from memory loss about ‘his fall’, their mother had impulsively arrested the Imp on her way back, accusing him of the attempt on Bran. The Lannisters had answered her foolishness by unleashing the Mountain onto the Riverlands, their mother’s family’s land. In King’s Landing Jaime Lannister had attacked their father and killed most of his household guard, to make him order their mother to release the Imp. And soon after Robert Baratheon had died and they had received a letter informing them, their father would have been arrested a traitor, their sister would be held hostage and Robb would be ordered to come south, to pledge loyalty to the new king. Joffrey. That had been the day any regretful thought about Highgarden had vanished.

Never in her life had she seen her oldest brother so frightened, so vulnerable and so alone. Seeing him like that had fuelled her own fear even more, he had always been so strong and confident. She had wished then more than ever before, Jon wouldn’t have joined the Night’s Watch. They would have needed him then. With Jon at his side, Robb wouldn’t have been afraid, they would have given each other the strength to stay calm. She hated being unable to support Robb like that, because she wanted to. But she had also understood, she was just his little sister, while Jon was his equal. Theon, Maester Luwin and she had been counselling Robb, supporting him in his decision to call the banners to free father and their sister.

So Robb and Theon had left the following day, to meet with the bannermen at Moat Cailin, leaving her in charge. _Acting Lady of Winterfell_. She would never have thought to run a castle so soon, even less that it would be her own home. She had promised Robb to make him and father proud, that she would protect their brothers, their home and their people, no matter what it would take. And to prove that, she had sought out Syrio Forel the same day, joining Rickon in his water dancing. Arya and her father had convinced her to take lessons with the bravo when she had been younger, but Sansa had never been as talented with a blade as Arya and had stopped attending lessons some years ago. Archery on the other hand she had continued to practice daily. After all shooting a bow could be done in a dress just as well as in breeches and it was her talent, she had managed to best her brothers and her younger sister, which had driven the latter one mad each time.

But still the spiral making things go south for the Starks hadn’t stopped, yet. A moon’s turn after Robb had left for Moat Cailin, she and her younger brothers had all woken from the same dream, seeing their father in the crypts. She hadn’t paid much attention to it, until Bran had told her he had dreamt the same and they had found Rickon right where they had seen their father in their dream. All the way up to the courtyard she had tried to convince her brothers that it all was just a stupid dream. Though she couldn’t even convince herself. And then Maester Luwin had come to them with a letter, unable to speak its words out loud. That had been the moment when she was about to lose her poise, but Bran, still so young, had taken her hand to give her support and had said, “We have to be strong, _for him_!” looking at Rickon and she had nodded, fighting back the tears.

Almost three moon’s turns had passed since. Robb had finally marched south and had met with their mother. A letter had informed them Lady Catelyn had decided to stay with him. On one hand Sansa had been glad their mother wanted to support Robb, but on the other she had wanted their mother come home. Rickon needed her. All of them needed her. After all, the battle-hardened Northern bannermen seemed to support Robb with all their heart, they had even crowned him King in the North, when they had been unable to decide which Baratheon brother they should follow.

This was truly madness, three Baratheon kings, two brothers, Stannis and Renly and their nephew Joffrey all three called themselves the rightful king and fought each other. And according to Stannis, Joffrey wasn’t even a Baratheon, but Jaime Lannister’s bastard. All three of Cersei’s children would be. It would explain a lot, but still it was madness, Stannis fighting his younger brother about the throne, before any of them had it, instead of joining forces against the Lannisters and decide who sits that damn thing afterwards. So the Northerners had done good to choose themselves a king of their own. At least their king was reasonable and only waged war against the Lannisters because they had butchered the whole Stark household, murdered their father and held their sister hostage; leaving him no choice but to declare war.

Sansa spent her days now mostly with running the castle and their lands, corresponding with Robb and their mother and practicing archery and water dancing in between, she had even made herself some breeches, Robb’s and Jon’s old ones just didn’t fit right, and she was eager to improve her fighting skills now. With Robb, Jon and Theon gone, she was the only one standing between their younger brothers and their enemy. Well, not literally, they still had guards and men left to hold Winterfell and protect them. But Sansa wanted to be prepared for the worst. That much she had learnt within the past one and a half year since father and Arya had left their home.

If only her duties would leave her more time to spend with her brothers. Bran was mostly taking care of Rickon now and Sansa felt guilty relying on her younger brother to do so. Especially since Bran was so keen to prove her he could manage and offered her his help, as soon as he saw her struggling with anything. She wondered when her younger brother had become _so old. So wise_. It seemed as if his mind had aged years during his sleep after his ‘fall’. He was only twelve and should still be enjoying this last part of childhood. Arya had been only a few moon’s turns older when she had been made to leave them.

By nightfall the three siblings would go to the Godswood and pray together. For mother to come home. For Jon, Robb and Theon to be strong and stay unharmed. And of course they prayed for Arya to come home soon as well. They would do that every night now and afterwards sit together and tell Rickon stories about them from times before he was born or things he wouldn’t remember anymore. But this night was different.

When they prayed for Arya, Bran suddenly asked, “Sister?” and Sansa had looked at him, thinking he would be talking to her, but _he wasn’t_. His eyes were open, but his glance was empty, absent and when she was just about to shake him, he called, “Sister!” followed by, “Yes.” and Sansa and Rickon just stared at him. And last he said, “I will” before he turned to her, smiling, “ _I saw her!_ ” he started laughing with joy, only now understanding what had happened, “ _I saw Arya!_ ” Sansa was at a loss of words, but Rickon wasn’t, “ _What? How?_ ” “She said, she’s fine, coming home, she is in the Riverlands and we shall tell Robb that and mother should not worry.” Bran said, but Sansa still looked at him in disbelief, “Sansa, do you hear me? _She’s fine! They don’t have her! They’re lying!_ ” Sansa’s mind was racing and she remembered what Old Nan and Osha had told them, “You mean, you were greenseeing?” she asked bewildered and Bran nodded.

“You’re right. We have to tell Robb, if she’s not their prisoner.” Sansa agreed, slowly getting back control over her mind. “ _She’s not!_ I swear. She looks older now and cut her hair. _But it was her!_ _I recognized Needle!_ And the man said her name, he said ‘Arya’!” Bran tried to convince her. “ _What man!?_ ” Sansa looked puzzled again. “Oh, um, there was a man with her. A young man, like Robb and Jon.” Bran was getting desperate in convincing her, “It was him saying her name, um, what ‘ _called me_ ’.” Bran paused and then continued “I thought her name and at the same time I heard him say it and then I saw them. I wasn’t sure if it was her and said ‘Sister?’ to myself, but _she heard me!_ They both did. And then she told me what I should tell Robb and mother.” Sansa hugged him, “Calm down, I believe you!” “So, Arya’s coming home?” Rickon asked full of hope. “Yes.” they both said.

“And now Bran will tell us calm and in order what he had seen.” Sansa said, looking at Bran, “Now, you thought of Arya, thinking her name and then you heard ‘the man’ say it and saw them, right?” and Bran nodded, “What exactly did you see? Where were they? Was there anybody else? Just think on it and then tell us. The more we know, the better. Maybe we can give Robb a hint where to look for her.”

“Um, I heard him say ‘Arya’ and then I saw them. It was night, they were lying under a weirwood heart tree and he had his arms around her-” Bran said and Sansa interrupted, concerned, “How did he have his arms around her? _Did he hurt her?_ ” “Um, no. Kind of hugging. Like father and mother would do. He was leaning against the trunk and she was right next to him, her head on his chest and she had her arms around him, too, and then he said ‘you’re amazing’ and he kissed her-” “ _What!?_ ” both Rickon and Sansa asked wide-eyed. “ _Not a real kiss!_ He kissed her on the forehead. And then I said ‘Sister?’ and they both jumped and he drew his sword and pulled her behind him. I think he is protecting her.” “Was he a knight!?” Rickon asked still wide-eyed. “I don’t know. He wasn’t wearing armour or anything like that and no coat of arms.” “What then?” Sansa asked, “I said ‘Sister!’ because then I knew it was her and she stepped forth and recognised my voice and she told me she is fine. She is coming home. She is in the Riverlands. I shall tell Robb that and that mother should not worry.” and I said ‘I will’ and then she said ‘thank you’ and looked back at the man. He was looking baffled and in shock. And that was it.” Bran said, “Um, they were somewhere deep in the woods, I couldn’t see anything but woods around them.” disappointed, he couldn’t tell her Arya’s location.

“It’s alright. We know now she is not in King’s Landing and we know she’s heading home and she apparently has _a friend_ , protecting her.” Sansa said. “Something about him looked familiar.” Bran admitted then, brooding. “What do you mean?” “Can’t really name it. As if he would look like someone we know. Yet, I’m sure, I’ve never seen him before. He was tall and strong, like Robb. Black hair and his eyes were blue, I think. Though, I might be wrong since it was dark.” “Doesn’t ring any bells.” Sansa said, a bit disappointed. It would have comforted her if Arya had someone they knew at her side. “But it’s good he is tall and strong, if he’s protecting her, right?” Rickon said. “If he does, then _yes._ ” Sansa replied. “I’m quite sure he does. _She likes him_. She looked, um, happy.” Bran confirmed. “ _Good,_ _then at least one of us is…”_ Sansa said, getting up. “I’m going to write to Robb now.” “I’ll get Rickon to bed.” Bran said. “Thank you, Bran. You did great today! I’m proud of you. Both of you!” she said and kissed them on the forehead, before she realised, _like ‘the man’ had done with Arya_.

Sansa went to the lord’s solar, thinking about how she could tell Robb Arya was heading home without writing it down. _Ravens can be shot down._ She couldn’t let the enemy know they knew Arya was not a hostage of _those lying bastards_ and she couldn’t give Arya’s whereabouts away, no matter how vaguely they were. She would need to encrypt the message. Why hadn’t they thought of a code before Robb had left? _Stupid!_ And then she had an idea. Sansa decided to split the message in three, making all look like encoded informations about their enemy’s movements. _Underfoot confirmed in the Riverlands / Horseface marching north with reinforcement / Confirmed: Climber is Greenseer_. Hoping Robb and their mother would understand what she tried to tell them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intended to spare Sansa her only-ever-the-victim fate. She is sixteen now, clearly outgrown her annoying dreamily phase when she was 11/12. And it never has been that bad as in canon.
> 
> In case you wonder why Arya hadn't given Bran a more detailed location, like saying she is near the Gods Eye, that was on purpose. She feared if she would do so, Robb would immediately march there to look for her and that this would endanger his life. After all Lorch is in the area and the Mountain. And she doesn't want him to forget his battle strategies and loose the respect of his men over her. At this point she is still convinced she can manage to get home on her own.
> 
> And if you stumble upon the Gendry-Bella-joke: I had written down "Doesn't ring any bells." and only then realised the phrase's connection to him and then decided to just let it stay in the story. It seemed quite fitting to me, since Gendry in my story is not ringing any bells (at least not with whores, because he is so eager to prove he is not his father).


	10. Stupid Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After revealing to Gendry she is a skinchanger things are a bit awkward between them, which drives Arya mad, she tells herself, she wouldn't care about him or the two boys. But right then her body 'decides to betray her'. After all the stress and trauma from the past weeks Arya's body takes it out on her in the meanest way possible and messes with her head. The boys aren't helpful... at least not in the beginning.

The rest of that night at the heart tree had been awkward. Gendry had eventually claimed, he wouldn’t be afraid of her, but when he had lain down turning his back on her, she had known he was not alright. Not once since they had left King’s Landing had he slept not facing her, not wanting to keep an eye on her. Maybe he was not afraid, but she being a skinchanger had changed things for him. _So much for she would be amazing_ … She had felt something prickle in her stomach when he had said it and kissed her forehead, with his stubble tickling her skin. Well, apparently she had amazed him too much now. She missed having his arms around her, feeling his warmth. Not that she would be cold. She wasn’t. She just had eased into to having him so close. Arya just … liked _it_.

But she wasn’t Jeyne Poole, she wasn’t weak without a man. _She was all but that. She didn’t need him!_ The only boys she needed, were her brothers. After all, her siblings were expecting her home anytime soon now. She had no time for such … _Foolishness_. She had to get home and nothing else mattered. It was the three boys’ choice if they wanted to come or not, _she didn’t care_. Or so she liked to tell herself. Since whenever she glanced back, seeing them there, seeing _him_ still there, she felt relieved. At night she was turning her back on him now and didn’t even check, if he was still doing so or not. _Why should she care?_ Yet, she caught herself hoping to wake up to feel his arms around her again. _Stupid_ _bull_.

Well, the only thing she had woken to up a few days later had been a slight dragging abdominal pain and it had been getting worse soon. She had gone to make water which had meant a short relief but the sickening pain had returned right after. At least walking had seemed to ease it. Arya had felt so sick, she had remained silent all morning, but since _‘the incident’_ at the heart tree she had been barely talking anyway, least to him. So she had hoped the boys wouldn’t notice and the pain would allay. But it hadn’t. By midday she had felt so nauseous from the pain she hadn’t been able to eat of the rabbit Hot Pie had roasted. _Then_ she had felt the boys’ enquiring looks on her. _Damn_. However, she hadn’t looked up to face them, she had just sat there with her legs pulled up to her chest, clenching her fists and digging her fingernails into her palms, hoping they would soon be moving again. But when they finally had gotten up, her nausea had been so bad, any colour had left her face and she had felt sweat on her forehead as soon as she stood. She had found herself, leaning against a tree, throwing up within an instant later. _Great_ , _now they definitively know_ , she had thought. At least the pain had allayed for a while afterwards. Gendry had sounded worried when he had asked, if she was alright. “I’m fine.” she had retorted, hoping she had sounded annoyed enough to keep him away.

They had come across a small cave within an hour later and had set up camp for the night there, but Arya suspected it was because of her vomiting. Hot Pie had saved her share of food, but she refused, still lacking any appetite. A little while later the sickening pain had returned and when she had gone to make water, she had finally understood. She wasn’t sick. She was bleeding. _Gods, why now?_ All alone in the woods and on the run, with three stupid boys at her heels. _She hated being a girl. Now more than ever._ Giving no explanation, she returned to the cave grabbing all her bundle and disappeared into the woods, leaving the boys dumbfounded behind. But of course, Gendry came after her, asking where she was going to. “To have a bath.” she hissed and didn’t stop. When she didn’t hear him leave, she turned, “What’re you waiting for? _Go back!_ ” she shouted, he looked puzzled at her sudden outburst, yet, didn’t move. “ _Now!_ Or do you want to watch?” she demanded. “Arya, _what’s_ _wrong_?” he asked, concerned. “ _Nothing! I need a bath!_ And some privacy if you don’t mind! _Leave!_ ” and she ran, feeling relieved when she didn’t hear him follow.

She found a nearby brook and washed herself and her clothes, but soon started sobbing. _How was she supposed to hide she was a girl now?_ She knew she had been lucky it didn’t happen earlier with the other recruits around, yet, she felt as if the world would come crashing down onto her. Though she was a woman now, she felt more like a little girl than ever before. She would use some of the fabric from binding her chest to avoid bloodstains on her clothes, but how would she manage to sneak off to the woods every few hours to change and clean it? Not even Hot Pie and Lommy were that stupid to not notice then.

 _She could run_ , she thought. Before she remembered, there was a war going on here, with men like Lorch and the Mountain out there. They couldn’t only rape her now, they could get her with child. Which could mean her death. Women of all age and build died in childbed all the time. Her aunt Lyanna had and she had only been two years older than Arya now. She didn’t want to die. _Not like that_. _Not like Lyanna_.

She had been at the small brook for almost two hours now, still in shock over her own body betraying her like this. She sat at the bank, rocking slightly forth and back, to allay the pain a bit… when she heard _him_ again. _Why didn’t he get it?_ He was truly the _last_ person she wanted around now. “Don’t you dare come any closer!” she yelled, without turning to face him. “Arya, I’m worried about you.” he pleaded, still approaching, yet slower and more careful. “You haven’t cared how I was since the heart tree. So why care now?” she retorted. “You know that’s not true!” he replied, slightly offended. “How would I?” she shouted and he was losing his patience with her, “You know damn well I care! Or else I wouldn’t be here, would I?” he retorted, getting louder himself. _Too close_. “I said, don’t you dare come any closer! Just like I said I needed privacy!” she yelled, “Which part didn’t you understand?” she was just about to turn around to go on yelling at him, when he pulled her up, forcing her to face him, “ _My ass!_ I’m done listening to your bullshit! _You’re sick and in pain!_ And you’ll tell me right now what’s wrong with you!” he demanded angrily. “ _Nothing’s wrong! I’m fine._ I just want to be alone.” she retorted, before she broke away from his grip to throw up again. He was furious now, “Stomach ache. Nausea. Vomiting. Sweating. You could _die_ from that!” he shouted. “ _Hardly!_ ” she snorted, and would have laughed at him if she hadn’t felt so miserable. “ _My mum did!_ ” he shouted. _Damn_. She looked up at him, seeing he actually feared for her. “I’m not sick or dying. _I’m bleeding!_ ” she hissed, forced to speak it out then. “ _What? Where?_ ” he asked bewildered, looking her up and down. “ _Seriously?_ _I’m a girl, you idiot!_ ”

She was blushing of shame, feeling the heat in her cheeks and ears. This literally was the most embarrassing moment of her life. He had been the last person she had wanted _to know_. Arya needed to get away from him. _Now!_ But he stopped her, grabbing her hand, “ _Wait_. I’m sorry.” “It’s just, my mum had all these _signs_. You only lacked the fever and I feared it would soon follow.” he explained, “Since, um, I’d never seen you _like this_ before.” “Hardly possible, when it is the first time!” she growled. “ _Oh…_ ” he finally understood what really was going on, “Um, I don’t know what to say now.” he admitted, while rubbing the back of his head, clearly embarrassed, “Um, are you okay? I mean, aside from pain and nausea.” She only nodded, not interested in sharing her thoughts or how she felt now with _him_. So he started to ask, “Um, did your mother tell you-” “ _Don’t you dare to give me that ‘You’re a woman now’ speech!_ ” she threatened, glaring up at him. “ _What? No! I wasn’t!_ ” now his face was turning the same bright red as hers, “What I meant to ask was, um, if there isn’t any herb or the like …to help with the pain.” “I thought about tea from willow bark or chamomile.” she said. “Then let’s get you that.” he suggested.

“What about the boys?” she asked, “We can’t fool them much longer.” “Um, we could try! Who knows how far we can get with this little charade!” Gendry tried to cheer her up, but it didn’t work. “Or, um, since we’re now just us four left, you could tell them.” he suggested after a while, “They might not be the brightest or bravest, but they’re good lads. I think for them it doesn’t matter if you’re a boy or a girl.” After a while she nodded. He was right.

They had walked a while alongside the stream, until they came across a willow and cut down some small branches, to take them back to the cave. Where the two boys had already been waiting for them, and as if they had known, Lommy said, “We’ve picked some chamomile and made some tea, Arry!” and Hot Pie explained, “Should help with the nausea and vomiting.” Arya looked at Gendry, questioning, but he only shrugged and smiled. She couldn’t tell, if he had told them to do so or if they had come up with it on their own. Arya took a bowl of tea and sat down, while Gendry cut some of the willow’s bark into the kettle and started, “Listen, boys, we need to tell you some things. But you can’t tell anyone! Do you understand?” he asked. Both nodded and vowed to keep their secrets, curious about what they would get to hear.

Arya had thought Gendry would tell her secret, but then he had told them that he wasn’t Jory, but Gendry. To their amusement the two boys had already forgotten that was the name the Gold Cloaks had mentioned. They even seemed disappointed about hearing such a ‘boring’ secret. When Gendry attempted to explain, Arya interrupted, “And I’m a girl.” “ _I knew it!_ ” Hot Pie proclaimed happily, “Told you!” he said, punching Lommy playfully, who looked at her in disbelief. “ _You knew?_ ” Arya and Gendry asked together. And Hot Pie proudly told them how he had found out, “Well, not at first. But when, um, Gendry carried you after the battle, like a man would carry a woman-” “ _What!?_ ” Gendry interrupted dumbfounded, “ _How else_ should I’ve carried her?” “Well, if she would have been a boy, you would have thrown her over your shoulder and run. At least you would have done so with Lommy or me, right?” Arya stared at Gendry. Apparently Hot Pie had a point, no matter how stupid his theory sounded. “And when we were hiding under the trunks I noticed you two slept snuggled together like two boys wouldn’t do.” Hot Pie went on and Arya was suddenly busy to gulp down her still too hot tea to not have to face any of them. “I told Lommy you were a girl then, but he wouldn’t believe me.” Lommy shrugged, “I thought you two were gay, is all. Unlike _him_ ,” he pointed at Hot Pie, “I know boys can sleep like that, too.” and then he looked from Arya to Gendry, asking, “So are you two, you know, _in love?_ ” Arya choked on her tea, while Gendry retorted, clearly shocked, “ _NO! We’re friends!_ ” She felt a little sting in her heart, when he said it, but had no time to think about it, since Hot Pie asked right away, “ _Are you sure?_ You two fight like an old married couple, all bickering and ranting.” “ _No, we don’t_!” Arya shouted and then looked at Gendry, “ _This is your fault!_ You said, we should tell them!” and stormed off again, hearing Lommy call after her, “ _See!_ That’s what we mean!” _Yeah, thanks, for stating the obvious_ , she thought, fuming. _Stupid boys!_

When she returned to camp, the two apparently not-as-foolish-as-they-thought-idiots were thankfully dozed off. “Are you alright?” Gendry asked. “We made some more tea.” he offered. “You didn’t tell them, did you?” Arya demanded to know, taking another bowl. Gendry shook his head, “Nothing they need to know.” “Nothing _you_ needed to know!” she proclaimed. “I see, you’re not letting me off the hook any time soon.” Gendry chuckled, before he got more serious again, “Do you want me to hold you tonight?” She looked at the two boys sleeping. “ _I don’t care what they think!_ ” he declared. “Not tonight.” she said and lay down next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About Lyanna, the Stark children know practically everything except that her baby had survived and is Jon Snow. I'm thinking of if maybe Catelyn tells Robb at some point... but I'm not sure about that, yet.
> 
> In case you are wondering, in my story Gendry's mother died of an appendicitis. Why? First I think it's tragic since something like that can be cured quite 'easily' with modern medicine available (if diagnosed soon enough) and second it was the the easiest to combine with Arya's physical changes and their growing feelings for each other. 
> 
> She has started to realise she likes boys just as much as Sansa and Jeyne and that certain stubborn bull especially. But she doesn't like feeling that way, she thinks it would make her weak, so she is still fighting against it.
> 
> Gendry is still oblivious. He knows he likes her and he even knows she is the most important person in his life now (since his mother is gone). But he is still doesn't want to admit to himself, he is attracted to her. He sees she ist just starting to discover the other sex, even notices she has a crush on him, but since he is older and already had most the experiences she still lacks, he is still in full denial.  
> At this point he tells himself, she is like a little sister. Especially after she had told him, he would remind her of her two big brothers. That even encourages him to take over their 'position' at her side for the time her older brothers can't. He knows it is Jon and Robb she misses the most, because them being skilled fighters would give her the most safety now (not because the other siblings mean less to her). The fact, that he is not always acting very brotherly with her he ignores. 
> 
> Which is why I wanted Hot Pie and Lommy to point their fingers at that. Them being age-wise right in between Arya and Gendry makes them perfect judges to understand both positions and what is going on between their companions. The two boys are still quite inexperienced with the other sex (like Arya) and yet they are old enough to know some things (like Gendry), even if it's just from hearsay of older men and women.
> 
> \--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
>  _Minor Spoiler Warning!_  
>  This chapter was mostly about showing the growing feelings between Arya and Gendry but also their bonding with Hot Pie and Lommy. And it shall show how young and oblivious all four of them still are and how easy they can forget the cruel reality that they still are in the middle of a war zone. So the blow in the following chapter will hit them even harder.
> 
> _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
> 
> I wrote this and the last two chapters quite parallel that is why I published them so close after each other. The next will take me a bit longer to publish. I know what it is about but I haven't even decided if it will be Arya or Gendry who is telling it. So I probably have to write down both sides to see which one I like better.


	11. The Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, the Mountain that Rides happens...

Arya sat in the crown of an old tree. Originally to orientate herself, if the Gods Eye’s northern shore would finally be in sight; it had been almost two fortnights since Amory Lorch had attacked them. And indeed she could see the northern shore and even something that looked like a holdfast. It looked so small from her point of view, but she could see towers stand out against the sky. It was clear, if she could see it from here, it could only be a large sized holdfast and she knew exactly which one. _Harrenhal_. _Seat of house Whent, her grandmother’s house._ Arya recalled. But she had seen her hopes being crashed once too often lately, to let herself hope again. _Yes, maybe they would be safe there. Maybe they would even find Robb there._ _But chances were better to find the holdfast in enemy hand now_. _Or why else would Amory Lorch dare to maraud so close-by?_

She would think about that later. Way closer than Harrenhal, maybe an hour away, Arya could a fishers’ village. That was the reason she still sat in the tree, watching for signs if it would be safe to go there or not. Yet, she was unable to come to a clear conclusion. On one side there were the smoking chimneys, apparent signs of life in the village and on the other side she could see a swarm of crows circling over its roofs, which could only mean one thing. _Death_. _The enemy must have been there_. Maybe even Lorch again, killing smallfolks and their livestock. The only question she couldn’t answer was, _who lit up the chimneys_ now. Was it returned villagers? Or was the enemy still there, and if so, _why?_ She thought about entering a bird’s mind to check what was going on from afar. But she remembered Osha’s warning _, It is dangerous to warg a bird, one can lose contact to the mundane things and forget oneself_. Arya couldn’t allow herself to get lost in a bird’s mind now. Not only was her own life at stakes, but also those of the three boys below the tree.

Back down on the ground she reported her finding, and Gendry agreed, there was no other way than scouting. They debated whether only one or two or all four of them should go. Arya would have preferred to go on her own, but Gendry wouldn’t have it and declared he would go instead, ignoring any backtalk. So Arya threatened, if he would do so, she would follow and the two boys wouldn’t want to be left behind and proclaimed then they would follow her. So in the end Gendry had to agree all four of them would go. They waited for nightfall and moved slowly closer and split in two groups as soon as they had reached the treeline at the outskirts of the village. Gendry would have preferred to team up with Arya, but the two boys were too frightened to go on their own, so Arya went with Hot Pie along the lake shore and Lommy followed Gendry sneaking up from the western side.

Arya and Hot Pie crawled behind bushes at the shoreline and were met by an almost unbearable stench of decay the closer they got to the houses. Hot Pie whispered, “It smells of dead people here. _We should go back_.” But Arya only shushed and went on, until they reached the source of the stench. She whispered into his ear, “Whatever you do, _don’t look up!_ ” yet, she forced herself to look upon the corpses, swaying in the breeze at the gibbet above them. Most of them were barely recognisable, hanging there for quite some time and scavengers had been at them; the crows still were. Arya crawled further, they had to know what was going on here. But they wouldn’t until they were close to the village’s centre, seeing a long slate-roofed storehouse, guarded by two Lannister men. _Damn_.

When she and Hot Pie were retreating, they heard someone screaming from the other side, and some metal clanging. _Swords!_ One of the guards ran towards the fighting and Arya placed her hand over Hot Pie’s mouth. _Please don’t let it be them!_ She couldn’t retreat further, she had to know first. Soon four Lannister men with a prisoner returned to the warehouse. _Gendry!_ She recognised him immediately. _NO!_ The men had disarmed him and dragged him to the storehouse, while one spearman was boasting, “Carry him, he said!” he laughed, “Why the hell did he think, I put my spear through his leg? Stupid _skinny_ bastard!” _NO! Oh gods, please, no. Not Lommy! Don’t let him mean Lommy!_ She hoped, seeing the men pushing Gendry through the warehouse door. Her mind was racing. Panic was about to take over. _She should have scouted alone!_ _No, she should have warged a damned bird! So what, if she would have lost herself!? At least her friends would be fine then…_

When she looked back at Hot Pie, seeing him all wide-eyed, she knew he understood what had happened. She tried to calm him, hugging him, holding him and stroking his back, whispering into his ear, “We can’t know he was talking about Lommy. _We have to check first!_ He might be wounded. I need you to stay calm now, so we can help him. And Gendry! Okay?” After a while Hot Pie nodded and she hadn’t stopped stroking his back until then. They crawled back alongside the shore, back to the gibbet, Arya in front and Hot Pie following. _Fear cuts deeper than swords. Calm as still water. Quiet as a shadow_ , she thought, she couldn’t allow herself to freak out now. Or all hope would be lost, she told herself. She had to stay strong. For Hot Pie, to keep him calm. For Gendry, to save him. And for Lommy! A voice in her head tried to tell her, what she denied to accept. _No! We don’t know that! Not until I’ve seen his dead body!_

But it was all for nothing. When one of the guards passed by in front of the bushes while they cowered behind, not moving, holding their breathes, a crow mistook Hot Pie for a rock, landing on his back, making him inhale in shock. Arya drew Needle and attacked the Lannister man right away, but her sight was blocked by the twigs and leafs and Needle was unable to find its target, only scratching the metal of the armour. She told Hot Pie to run, but it was no use, he got caught by the man in front of the bushes and Arya leapt right into an ironclad fist. She tried to dodge the blow by averting her face, but it still hit her temple. Making her tumble down, about to pass out, when the man who had hit her took Needle. _No, not Needle!_ was the thought her fading consciousness clang to, when they dragged her and a sobbing Hot Pie to the storehouse, pushing them inside.

Gendry was by their side immediately. Though, she couldn’t make out his face, her sight all blurry and her head buzzing with pain, she felt him picking her up, carrying her a few feet before he laid her down on the ground and examined her. _Then_ she finally allowed herself to pass out. When she regained her consciousness, she didn’t know how much time had passed or where she was and tried to get up to look around, regretting it instantly. The slightest movement increased the buzzing headache out of scale. Gendry made her lay down again, telling her not to move. _But she couldn’t. She had to know._ “ _Lommy?!_ ” she asked, while her hand searched Hot Pie’s, who sat next to him. Gendry shook his head and Hot Pie started sobbing again. _No!_ Her headache kept her from joining in. So instead her tears ran down her cheeks in silence and when she looked up at Gendry, she saw tears trying to well up in his eyes, too, but he fought them back with sheer will, clenching his jaw, before he placed his hand above hers holding Hot Pie’s.

It was not long after sunrise when the storehouse door was kicked open, making everyone inside bolt upright. The villagers clustered themselves instantly against the walls behind, urging away from the door. Though Arya and the two boys didn’t know what was about to happen, the horror on their fellow captives’ faces made them follow their example, headache, bruises and cuts or not. Six Lannister men entered, and right behind the largest man Arya had ever seen. Yet, it was not for the first time, she recognised him immediately. _Gregor Clegane_. _The Mountain that Rides._ She knew then, _they were in trouble, like never before;_ and was not the only one to understand that. The moment he had seen the three black dogs on a yellow field, Gendry had slowly moved her behind him, to not draw any attention. _Calm as still water. Fear cuts deeper than swords. Fear cuts deeper than swords. Calm as still water. Fear cuts deeper than swords. Fear cuts deeper than swords. Fear cuts deeper than swords. Fear cuts deeper than swords._ _Fear cuts deeper than swords…_ Syrio’s words were no good, Arya wasn’t able to get her fear under control anymore. Again she had to revise her definition of it. What would happen here, would be worse than King’s Landing, worse than passing by butchered villages and Amory Lorch’s murderous attack. She couldn’t stop herself from trembling or huddling against Gendry’s back. Thankfully he understood immediately, and reached behind, grasping her hand, yet, unable to hide his own shaking. Hot Pie seemed to be the only one who didn’t know, yet, how deep in trouble they were, so Gendry pulled him closer as well.

When the Mountain and his men _finally_ left the warehouse after sunset, he shoved both of them to their sleeping spot. Arya had thought they would be left alone until sunrise now. She was wrong. The previous night her concussed head had apparently prevented her to notice what was happening after nightfall. She found out now, when Gendry and Hot Pie lay down left and right to her, pulling their cloaks over them. They both were so close she couldn’t move anymore, at first she had thought Gendry would want to comfort Hot Pie by pulling him so close. But when the storehouse door opened, both boys had instantly moved even closer, their shoulders almost touching above her, _hiding her_. She had no time to ask why. Whimpering and crying could be heard since the door had opened, and a female voice was louder than the others, sobbing and pleading, while moving through the room out of the door, accompanied by the clanging metal of armour. Within the blink of an eye Arya understood why the boys were hiding her and tried to make herself even smaller between them.

They spent eight days in the storehouse, watching the Mountain’s men torturing and butchering their prisoners in front of the others. Each morning Clegane would pick someone to be _interrogated_ by a man the captives called _the Tickler_ , while the Mountain only sat there, listening. The questions asked were always the same. They burned themselves into Arya’s mind, impossible to ever be erased again. _Is there any gold or food hidden in the village? Where is the Brotherhood Without Banners? Where is Beric Dondarrion? How many men does he have? Who in the village assisted them? Is there any gold or food hidden in the village? Where is the Brotherhood Without Banners? Where is Beric Dondarrion? How many men does he have? Who in the village assisted them? Is there any gold or food hidden in the village …_ By the third day Arya would have been able to interrogate the prisoners herself.

No matter what the villagers would give away, hidden supplies or valuables or names of those, who supposedly had helped that Brotherhood Without Banners, in the end they all swayed from the gallows; as feast for the crows. It didn’t matter if one averted his gaze, not looking at the Mountain, or if one tried the opposite, staring right into his eyes. He picked whoever he liked, erratically. An old man who had mended their clothes was picked, just like the girl who had slept with one of the soldiers for three nights in a row.

So the villagers endured whatever the Mountain’s men could come up with, without any resistance, just like sheep. But Arya didn’t judge, wouldn’t dare to. By now the Lannisters had literally taken everything from her, her father, her friends, her hope and with Needle they had also taken away her courage. She knew she was about to break, all it would take was the Mountain pointing his monstrous finger at Gendry, Hot Pie or herself. She once might have thought of herself being a wolf, a great direwolf of the North, but now she knew she was not, she was not even a sheep. She was less than that, a lamb at best.

Never had she felt that vulnerable and fragile as now. Never had she been less in control over her body or her life and for the first time, she accepted and even wanted the protection of men. Arya hated herself for being so weak, so in need for Gendry and even Hot Pie to protect her, when they both were just as much in need for protection as she was. Yet, she was grateful they did protect her. Though she couldn’t even tell them, since they were forbidden to talk, they had seen villagers getting their faces smashed for disregarding that order, and those were the lucky ones. A woman who couldn’t stop screaming after her son had been butchered, was killed; just like that, Raff the Sweetling had struck her down. So all Arya could do was wiping Hot Pie’s tears from his nose and cheeks, when he mourned his best friend at night or holding their hands, to thank them.

There was no purpose in being brave, Arya had soon realised. _The brave ones weren’t the ones who lived!_ The brave ones were killed, as soon as they showed any sign of resistance. So somehow she was even glad they had taken Needle away and with it her courage. Or else she would be swaying from the gibbet as well by now. _It was the smart ones who lived!_ The ones who kept their heads down and were lucky enough not to be picked. No tactic or strategy had worked to survive this. _Except for one’s._

When the Mountain had pointed at Gendry, he instantly had pushed Arya into Hot Pie’s arms, pressing her face against the boy’s chest, so she wouldn’t be able to scream or do anything stupid, to get herself killed. When the Tickler had started asking his questions, he had calmly answered them truthfully. Telling them, that he wouldn’t be from the village, so he wouldn’t know anything about hidden valuables or secret food supplies. That he wouldn’t know what the Brotherhood Without Banners was or where Dondarrion would be or how many men he would have, since he would be an armourer’s apprentice from King’s Landing, heading north to the Wall, after his master would have sold him to the Watch. At first the Tickler didn’t believe him, so Gendry retorted calm, almost confidently, that he could easily prove it. He named the technical terms of any part of their Lannister armour and offered if they would have him an anvil and a hammer he could show them. Then Arya understood, _only a moron would kill a blacksmith in wartime_. Or at least that was what Gendry had been counting on. He knew, he was their most valuable captive. Well, not really, but neither he nor the Mountain’s men knew they actually had Robb Stark’s missing sister under their thumb as well.

In the end it was only women and children, very old or very young men and the three of them marching to Harrenhal. The Mountain had proclaimed, there they were meant to serve Lord Tywin Lannister, and it would be their last chance to prove they were no traitors or rebels. They never had a chance to get north near the Gods Eye, Arya realised, neither on the Kingsroad nor on the western shore. _We should have gone to Riverrun_ , she thought, _then Lommy would still live!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know only those skinchangers are called wargs who can enter a wolf’s mind. I’m not sure, if it is correct to say, ‘to warg a bird’, but I somehow like the verb ‘to warg/warging’ better than ‘to skinchange/skinchanging’. So I hope you forgive me, if I use it wrong.


	12. Jinxed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie have arrived in Harrenhal und slowly settle in and face their problems there together.

Upon their arrival two moon’s turns ago, the three of them had been separated, he worked in the forge, Hot Pie in the kitchen and Arya was a servant girl to some understeward. However, Harrenhal was so gigantic, people could live and work here for years without ever meeting, so Gendry hadn’t seen her since. He worked all day until he dropped down onto his pallet by nightfall and even if he left the forge, he never managed to get a glimpse of her. Not even from afar. He would have been worried sick, if it wasn’t for Hot Pie, who came by the forge almost every day to get the men their share of food. He kept Gendry posted about her and assured, she would be better now, almost her old self again; but the understeward would watch every step of his charges so closely, she couldn’t sneak away, not even for a moment.

Though Gendry got along with most of the men at the forge, none of them was special. _Like her_. None of them meant anything to him. None of them he would call a friend. Leaving Hot Pie the only friend he had at that point and not only because he owed him for what happened with Lommy. _He would never forget the boy’s sudden cry of pain; one moment they were sneaking through the coppice and the next Lommy had a spear pierced through his leg, before they had even known they had been discovered_. That loss und what had happened afterwards in the storehouse had changed Hot Pie a great deal. The two years separating them in age were barely noticeable now, making it easier for Gendry to open up to the boy and he actually looked forward to his visits. Hot Pie was the only person he would really talk to now, the only one who could make him smile these days.

Especially when he had told Gendry, he would be smitten with a kitchenmaid named Jenna and how Arya would try to help him, telling him about her sister and a friend and what the other servant girls would say about stolen kisses. However, Hot Pie hadn’t been persuaded of her matchmaking talents, claiming he would need a man’s advice and had looked at him expectantly. Gendry had choked on a piece of meat then, admitting he would be the wrong man for that, since there had been only one girl he had liked. “ _You’re jesting!?_ Half the servant girls swoon over you!” Hot Pie had retorted, shocked. “You do know, I’m a bastard?” “So?” The lad had said, frowning. “ _I don’t want any bastards of my own!_ ” Gendry had growled. “That’s just fine. But it doesn’t mean you can’t like girls.” Hot Pie had countered, “If you like one, just marry her then!” “You think, I hadn’t tried?” Gendry had retorted, harsher than he had intended and Hot Pie’s eyes had gone wide, “What happened?” “Wouldn’t want to marry a bastard smith anymore when a knight came along.” he had stated sullenly. Somehow, hearing this had pushed Hot Pie’s confidence, “So, it’s not just the looks what makes a girl turn you down?” Gendry had chuckled and assured, “ _No!_ They find a thousand reasons to do that.” Hot Pie had thanked him then and left for the kitchen cheerfully.

Then one day someone had entered the forge, yet, Gendry hadn’t turned to look; thinking whoever it would be, would call, if they would want to speak to him. But after a while he had seen some of the apprentices grinning and sniggering and one of the journeymen had smirked at him and nodded towards behind him, when Gendry had furrowed his brow. So he had turned, to see what the fuss was about and _there she was!_ Her hair longer, nicely combed and the dark grey dress accentuated her female body, making her look older now. No longer the little tomboy he had known. “You look … like a girl!” he stated, stunned. “ _I am one!_ ” she snorted and stepped closer. “No, um, I mean, almost like a lady.” he tried to explain. “ _Don’t call me that!_ ” she retorted offended and punched him. “I said _almost!_ ” he chuckled, “You’d be the worst lady ever!” he teased. “ _Thank you!_ ” she hugged him fiercely then, completely ignoring his grimy apron, while he still laughed about her taking the compliment as offence and vice versa.

“You’ve just ruined your dress!” he stated, still holding her. “Who cares, can’t wait to get rid of it anyway!” she proclaimed, making the two apprentices next to them smirk, until they saw him glare. “You look nice, though.” he said, when he put her feet back on the ground. “Nonsense! Stupid bodice annoys the hell out of me and don’t get me started about those skirts!” she ranted, “Ever tried to climb a tree in skirts? Broken neck guaranteed!” “Don’t think they put you in a dress to make you climb any trees…” he laughed. “I know damn well _why_ they put me in it!” she retorted angrily, “But you’re okay otherwise, are you?” he asked her. She nodded, “You?” “Yeah, thought it’d be worse. Lucan isn’t Tobho Mott, but he’s alright.” “Which one’s him?” she looked around, “I’ve got a message from Weese. Some stupid lordling has lost his sword. I’ve to get him a new one.” They hugged again before she left, promising, “I’ll come by again.” and he watched her run back over the yard, realising how badly _he had missed her_.

Yet, he wasn’t lost in thoughts for long, the smirking journeyman came prying, “Seems quite a handful. Your girl?” “ _No._ ” Gendry retorted snippy, regretting it, when the journeyman went on, “She seems fun.” “You just said, she would be a handful!” he retorted, not liking where this was heading. “Doesn’t mean she can’t be fun, does it?” the man suggested, so Gendry put down the hammer and the sword he was hammering, looking at the man, warning, “ _You keep away from her!_ ” “Thought you ain’t fucking her!?” the journeyman retorted boldly. “ _I’m not!_ ” Gendry hissed. “Then what’s your problem?” the man asked annoyed. “ _My_ problem?!” Gendry growled, thinking of a reason to put an end to this, “ _Maybe she’s my sister!_ ” he shouted then. _She was right. That dress was an issue_ , he thought angrily.

A few days later she showed up at the forge again, in the evening and clearly not on an errand. _What happened to the understeward’s watchfulness?_ This time Gendry had turned immediately, when he had seen the lads smirking again. He finished his daily work and led her outside, out of earshot from the others, “So, is this going to become a habit of yours, sneaking in, watching me work?” he asked amused. “Actually it’s an old habit of mine.” she grinned, looking up at him, as they walked further away from the forge. “I used to hide in the smithy, when I was sick of hearing I’d be no use with a needle and I’d have the hands of a blacksmith.” “Those little things?” Gendry chuckled and took her hand in his to prove his point. “I wasn’t just watching Mikken, I helped him!” she claimed, slightly offended. “So, I’m your new Mikken, hiding you from doing your duties?” he teased.

“ _I can hide myself!_ And you’re too skinny for being Mikken!” she stated, making him snort with laughter, “That might change sooner than you or I might like, with everyone saying I would be like my father.” he jested, before her angry reaction made him frown, “ _You’re nothing like your father!_ ” she declared. “How would you know?” he asked, getting suspicious when she looked at the ground, _hiding something_. “Because I know you!” she claimed determined, “You’re everything he never was!” Though, it felt good hearing her say it, he wondered, _what was it she wasn’t telling?_ Yet, he didn’t dare to ask. _She would tell him, when she was ready_ , he thought, _like she told him about her family_. “Gendry,” she asked after a while, “could you make me a sword?” With a sigh he said, “I fear, that is beyond my power right now.” He hated to refuse her and her disappointed look hurt, especially since they both would feel better if she had a blade again, “But one day I’ll make you one. I promise! Maybe even my masterpiece.” She had hugged him then and returned to her quarters. _Maybe not a sword, but a smaller blade_ …

Hot Pie had explained the following day, why she had been able to visit him so soon again. Apparently three days ago the understeward had been killed by his own dog and rumours would say the bitch had been jinxed by the ghost of Harrenhal. “ _Ghost of Harrenhal!?_ ” Gendry snorted, “My ass!” he knew exactly who had jinxed the dog. “He deserved it.” Hot Pie assured, “That guy gave me the creeps!”

Though Hot Pie had claimed, the new understeward wasn’t as watchful as Weese had been, it was more than two fortnights later when Arya showed up again; in a quite unexpected way. Like the other journeymen and apprentices, Gendry slept on a pallet above the forge. He couldn’t say for how long he had been asleep that night, when he startled to the touch of skin against his bare chest. “It’s only me.” she whispered. “What are you doing here?” he asked sleepy. “Sleeping.” she claimed and snuggled against him again, making him jump to the touch of her bare legs and arms, “ _You’re unclad!_ ” he whispered, wide-eyed. “No.” she assured, lifting the blanket to show him, “That’s just undergarments!” he stammered, feeling the blood rush into his cheeks and … _Fuck!_ _He needed to get away from her_. “You can’t sleep here! Least like that!” he stated alarmed. “Why?” she asked, completely unaware. “Where’s your dress?! Put it on again! _Now!_ ” he demanded unsettled. “It’ll get all grimy again! I don’t have time to wash it in the morning.” she tried to explain.

“Arya, you have to leave!” he ordered. “But we used to sleep like that all the time!” she replied puzzled. “We’re no longer on the run, there are rules now!” he retorted, unflinching. “ _I don’t care!_ ” she declared, “And your smith friends don’t either. I know Pretty Pia has been here.” “And why do you think she was here?” he asked, getting angry. “ _I’m not stupid!_ ” she whispered, defiantly, “But what has that to do with me?” “If anyone sees you here, you, me, both in undergarments…” he wanted to yell at her and could barely keep his voice down, “ _They’ll think I’d bed you!_ ” “Who cares!?” “You don’t get it, do you?” he hissed, before he saw something dawn on her, “ _You care!_ ” she realized, “You don’t want them to think we-” rushing herself into her underskirt, “I didn’t-” She grabbed the rest of her clothes and fled out of the window, running through the rain, halfway dressed as she was, disappearing into the darkness. _Fuck_.

Gendry had been on edge the following days, waiting for Hot Pie to confirm she had gotten safely to her quarters or if any of the men would tease him about his nightly visitor. But neither happened. Some other scullion had suddenly brought them their shares. Making him stew in his own juice until he couldn’t wait any longer. He went to the kitchen at dusk, hoping, he would see her on his way there. Yet, the only thing he could get a glimpse of was Hot Pie talking to his Jenna. “She seems nice.” Gendry said, when she had gone. “She is.” Hot Pie replied, before he whispered, “Why did you send her away?” “She told you?” Gendry asked surprised and got shushed by the boy. “Yes, we talk. We’re friends!” Hot Pie whispered, slightly offended, before he stated in the same low voice, “Just like I thought you would be her friend.” “Are you mad at me?” Gendry asked puzzled, also whispering then, yet, not knowing why. “Maybe.” Hot Pie stated, “Depends on what you’re going to do now.”

His friend told him then, the new understeward would be even worse than Weese. He would beat his servant girls with a birch, clearly enjoying it, yet, careful not to draw any blood, since he would need them pretty. Gendry clenched his fists while he listened to what Hot Pie told him next. At night the new understeward would lock the girls in, while he would be gambling and drinking with the soldiers. Though, on his return he would want one of them to warm his bed or even worse, he would sell them to the soldiers to pay his gambling debts. _I sent her back to that!_ Gendry felt sick, “ _You said, she would be fine!_ ” he hissed. “ _She was!_ Hadn’t spent a night in their quarters since he’d dragged the first one to his bed!” Hot Pie assured. _That’s why she asked for a sword_. She would climb out of the window or pick the lock to get out, knowing with all the towers in Harrenhal undermanned one more empty bed wouldn’t grab a drunkard’s attention, Hot Pie said.

But then Lord Tywin would have named her his sole cupbearer; due to her savvy and alleged sense of duty. She would work until nightfall, then vanish into thin air and show up again come dawn. _Clever_. One of the other girls would have sold her out then. Furious for being outwitted, the understeward would have tried to kick her down the stairs, only Arya would have managed to stop her fall; unharmed, aside from a slightly sprained wrist. And wouldn’t have been able to serve Lord Tywin properly for almost half a fortnight, which would have earned the understeward the lord’s disregard and her a deadly enemy.

Since then he would want to get back at her, trying to discredit her with the lord and even promising rewards to the girls and his soldier friends, if they could tell him where she hides. “ _He’s hunting her!_ ” Gendry realised. Hot Pie nodded, “I hid her in the kitchen storerooms, but the head cook found out. So I sent her to you.” _Why hadn’t she said anything?_ Hot Pie whispered, “She only needs a place when it’s raining. Can’t serve the lord all dirty and wet, you know!” giving her hideout away to him, “The godswood?” Hot Pie nodded. “Okay, I’m going to think of something.” Gendry lied, knowing exactly what he would do, “Be here tomorrow by nightfall. I need you to show me the man!”

He had gone back to the forge before he went to the godswood, pretending to pray in front of the heart tree. But in truth he had only watched the crescent rise and wondered if her brother could see him then. He had been halfway asleep when he heard her from behind, “What’re you doing here?” “We need to talk.” he said, before he even turned to look at her, not in the mood to beat about the bush. “No need! You don’t want me in your bed. Got it!” she stated and stepped behind the tree. “I’m not here to talk about that!” he claimed and followed her behind the tree, yet, seeing her unlace the top of her dress, made him stop in his track immediately. “Not pretty enough to bed, yet, watching is fine?” she hissed when she saw him stare and turned her back on him. “ _What?_ ” he stammered dumbfounded. She pulled the top over her head, “You heard me!” she said coldly, and removed her dress’s skirt, before she quickly scrunched it all up into a bundle with her boots and gathered the front of her underskirt and made to climb the tree.

“ _Wait! What do you mean?_ ” he grasped her by the waist, and pulled her down, making her bristle with anger, “Isn’t that obvious? You’re not that _stupid!_ ” He swallowed, knitting his brows in confusion. _Was she saying what he thought she was?_ “Either say something or let go off me!” she insisted, fuming. Though he felt absolutely uncomfortable and for sure didn’t want to know the answer, he slowly asked, “Arya, do you want me to bed you?” His heart was racing and he wasn’t able to unfurrow his brow. “ _No!_ ” she sounded as if he had gotten it all wrong. Yet, before he could feel relieved, she changed her mind, “Maybe.” she whispered insecure. “ _Why? We’re friends!_ ” he asked, somewhat hurt. “I don’t know.” she admitted, apparently confused herself, “I just don’t want you to think me ugly, too ugly for … _that_.” “ _But I don’t!_ ” he assured, “Remember, I said you look nice, and I meant it.” “Then why were you ashamed of me that night?” she asked bewildered. “I wasn’t ashamed of you!” he stated, “You just took me by surprise!” That she had indeed, only thinking of it, made him blush again. _He didn’t want to look at her like that!_ _She was his friend!_

“And, um, I might let the men believe you would be my sister.” he finally admitted, expecting her to get upset. “Why would you do that?” she chuckled with surprise and turned to face him. “Didn’t like the way they looked at you.” he growled, sullenly. Yet her smile lifted his mood. “So, you understand, why I couldn’t let them see us like that?!” he explained. “That’s stupid! I slept snuggled against my brothers all the time!” “Lately?” he chuckled. “ _No_.” “I doubt, your older brothers want you in their beds only wearing undergarments!” he claimed. “ _You don’t know them!_ ” she retorted. “In that case I do, believe me! Unless your family follows the Targaryen tradition.” he teased to prove his point and she countered with a punch.

 “Can we now be friends again? Just friends and nothing else?” he asked after a short moment of silence, and was relieved to see her nod. Careful not to upset her again, he began, “Like I said earlier, I came to talk about something else. Your new understeward-” “I’m fine, I can handle the dirtbag!” she interrupted stubbornly. “I hear your back tells a different story.” he countered calmly, not willing to give in. “ _Stupid Hot Pie!_ ” “Want to show me?” he asked, pleading. “I thought we’re _just friends!_ And now you want me to undress?!” she snorted. “You could just lift your bodice a bit.” he appeased, blushing. “You can’t lift the damn thing! Told you, it’s annoying like hell!” she stated, yet, she turned her back to him and unlaced and removed her bodice. Holding it close to her chest, covering herself, she allowed him to lift her small linen blouse on her back. Seeing bruises of all stages dappled on her back, Gendry flinched backwards instantly, “ _Why didn’t you tell me?_ ” “I can take a beating! How do you think I learnt water dancing?” she retorted stubbornly and put her bodice back on, before she turned to face him again.

Her eyes went wide when she saw the three blades shimmer in his hand. “ _For me?_ ” she asked stunned. “It’s no Needle, I know, but they should answer the purpose.” he assured. It was a dagger and two smaller ones with narrow blades and flat handles, so she should be able to hide them in her sleeves. “Gendry, they’re … _beautiful!_ ” she said, when she examined them, before she hugged him, whispering, “Thank you!” “I wasn’t done, yet.” he chuckled and handed her an oilstone and sheaths, “And some leather, so you can attach them to your clothes.” “Can’t you get in trouble for this?” she worried, “What if someone snatches the blades from me like Needle and recognises your work?” “Impossible! Unless it’s Tobho Mott!” he assured, “You think, I’d put my mark on lousy Lannister blades?” _They could force him to smith for them, but not to use his full potential of his craftsmanship,_ he thought stubbornly. Gendry had stayed with Arya that night; like before they had slept under the heart tree, she in his arms. Though he had feared her brother might ‘greensee’ them again, he feared more for her safety.

By nightfall the next day Hot Pie had led him to the quarters where the understeward used to gamble and had finally given a face to his target. Hot Pie had assured the scumbag wouldn’t leave the place before midnight. So Gendry had gone back to the forge, pretending to go to bed like the others. Only he hadn’t. When he had been sure the others had dozed off, he had risen from his pallet and gone back there, hiding in the shadows; watching the man enjoy his lucky streak during his last hour amongst the living, until he had stood up cheerfully, bidding goodnight to his friends and looked forward to enjoy his warm bed. Sadly, for him, he had never reached it. The man had drunkenly tripped on the staircase outside his sleeping quarters and had broken both his jaw and his neck.

When Gendry was heading back to the forge she suddenly walked beside him and teased, “You didn’t really think, I wouldn’t know what you were up to?” “Just like I wouldn’t know who the ghost of Harrenhal was, who jinxed a bitch to kill her master.” he teased back and took her hand. _He felt no remorse, only relief._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Arya knows how to warg, I thought she wouldn't waste one of the three names Jaqen has promised her on Weese and I think since all the protagonists are older, they'll be able to fight back better than the canon versions - getting rid of the smaller monsters at Harrenhal. Who Jaqen will kill will probably be revealed in the following chapters.
> 
> I put Arya in a dress for two reasons. First, to make Gendry realise, she is not a child anymore and to make him see, something is going on between them, if he likes it or not. Second, Arya hates dresses and so making her wear one is a punishment and Harrenhal is a place of torture and punishment, but also I imagine Tywin Lannister as such a fussy character that he wants things to be in order (meaning: girls wear dresses and skirts). Don't worry, I'm not turning her into a dress-loving lady. When she's free to do as she likes again, I'll make sure she comes across a fitting pair of breeches again.
> 
> About the girl who had dumped Gendry for a knight: He had met her when he was about Arya's age, at Raventree Hall, where he still was trained to become a knight aside from apprenticing at the castle's forge. So I imagine the girl wasn't very happy when he decided to not become a knight and even left to complete his apprenticeship in King's Landing soon after, making her promise to wait for him... Of course it wasn't nice of her to break her promise for a stupid knight, but making her wait for years wasn't helpful either. They just weren't meant to be!  
> Gendry's 4-5 years older than Arya, at their age that is quite a difference when it comes to experience. And I just didn't want him to be that super handsome yet weirdly still a virgin guy, who saves himself until he meets his soulmate. I want him to be a real guy, no prince charming, so he is not keen on siring bastards, but he is surely not too bloody honourable to not give it a try when he likes a girl. And he did like that girl at Raventree Hall, probably even loved her and she broke his heart and maybe he still mourns losing her and that is the reason why he is using being a bastard as excuse to not engage with girls anymore, to protect his heart from getting broken again.
> 
> And yes, I wanted to give Hot Pie some girl experience as well, most girls might not swoon because of him, but he's a good guy and I want some girl(s) to see that. I just don't know, yet, if Jenna sees that and if she does, is she the one for Hot Pie or not, and will she stay in Harrenhal or not? We'll see.
> 
> \-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> ABOUT THE LATEST COMMENT I HAD GOTTEN:
> 
> After I had the pleasure to only read very lovely and constructive comments here, I thought I wouldn’t need any comment moderation. But I have to reconsider, since I had to read phrases like "Gendry needs to man up and just take Arya" and "she's essentially begging for it" under this chapter describing two teenagers discovering their feelings and sexuality, my feminist heart sounds the alarm. 
> 
> 1\. I believe it ethically absolutely wrong to take advantage of a young girl, especially when she lacks any experience on this matter (keyword: grooming). There is a huge difference between "to want something" and "to want to want something" - and if you don't get what I mean, the latter one means: NO!  
> 2\. It would be absolutely out of character for Gendry (my story & books/show)! He is not a child groomer. He falls in love with a girl a bit younger than him, and he is aware of the fact, that she is not as grown up and experienced as she wants him to believe.
> 
> And I am that much of a feminist to claim, real men respect women and don’t prey on them. In my opinion, it is not men like Gendry who need to man up, but rather the cowards who disrespect/abuse other people and take advantage of weaker ones.


	13. Ghosts of Harrenhal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harrenhal indeed seemed to be a cursed place, slowly filling with ghosts ... vengeful ones.

At the storehouse she had felt like a lamb to the slaughter, but at least then she had still had Gendry and Hot Pie, protecting her from the worst. Though, upon their arrival at Harrenhal they had even taken them from her, turning her from lamb to mouse, as grey as the dress they had forced her into. Since then she hadn’t even seen a glimpse of where the boys had been taken to; the holdfast was so enormous, she hadn’t known where to look for them, even if she would have dared. Which she had not. _They probably were dead_ , she had feared. The first few days Arya had winced at every sound and movement, thinking that would be it now, the Lannisters would finally come for her, to torture, rape and slaughter her. She almost wished for it. _For someone to put her out of her misery._

And _someone_ did. When she tasted blood, at first, she had feared it would be her own. But it wasn’t. She was the one who spilt it. She was fierce and strong and free. _She was a wolf again. No! She was the great she-wolf from hell_ , come to prey on … _Lions_ , that was what her human called them, the ugly humans with their sharp shiny teeth and claws in rock-hard pelts of red. She didn’t fear them. She and her pack had found out the weak spots a while ago, the legs were barely covered by the strange pelts and neither the armpits and throats. _Right were the big veins for a fast kill run_. She truly had no reason to fear them, she had the numbers and with her sheer size she was the one causing the fear anyway. She was more than twice as big as her smaller cousins and she could scent the fresh stench of fear leaking from the human pelts as soon as she stepped out from the treeline. Every time. _It was delicious_.

Her human was with her, when she and her smaller cousins closed in on the small white caves surrounding the huge black one at the great water. They had remained silent. Her human had told her so, promising they could catch them all sleepy and unprepared. So first, they killed their scouts and then their guards; one by one, ripping out their throats and dragging them into the coppice. Her human had been right, in the small soft caves they found human lions sleeping, skinned of their pelts and claws, unaware of wolves coming for them. _It was almost too easy_. They raided several little caves on the outskirt of the Lions’ lair, ripping out throats and dragging the limp bodies back to the woods to feast on them.

She had woken to the howling of hundreds of wolves. _Nymeria_ , telling her she was retreating her pack after their feast. Arya had told her to, knowing Lord Tywin would need to act after such a bold advance against his host, he couldn’t risk the demoralisation of his troops. Though her friend had been unable to get her out, Arya had smiled. Nymeria had still saved her, handing her back, what she had lost in these woods around the Gods Eye. Her eyes had flashed, like they hadn’t for a long time. _She was no mouse_. _No lamb. No sheep._ And she would not be sheep or lamb or mouse again. Ever. _She was the Wolf in sheep’s clothing, raiding the Lion’s den_ , she had promised herself that night. _She had the means to it, she would manage._ And Nymeria would return, she knew.

Come morning, Weese, the understeward, had instantly noticed the sudden flickers of defiance in her eyes and had slapped her right away, trying to break her spirit. Yet, he only broke her lip. Though he had warned her, to rather soon forget her newfound courage, every slap he was giving her, only taught her to hide her defiance better. _It almost was like a game_. Especially after he had sent her to fetch food for the first time. _That had been a mistake. Of him, not her_. Finding Hot Pie in the kitchen, alive and well and hearing Gendry would be, too, had fuelled her spirit even more. _She was a great she-wolf of the North and her pack was alive and she would fight hell to get it back!_ So when Weese had finally sent her to get that sword, he had doomed himself.

He, his sword-losing lordling and all the world were forgotten the moment she had entered the forge, seeing _him_. After having been separated for so long, it suddenly felt unreal. Like a dream. Though she had stepped closer, she didn’t dare to speak or touch him, to make him turn. _She had never seen him work_. And was fascinated. She had liked to watch Mikken work and had been at the forge in the Red Keep, yet, _this was different_. She had seen a sword being made before, however _this was something new._ She couldn’t tell, was it his slightly different technique or was it _just him?_ When he suddenly turned, his annoyed look turning into surprise, the spell was broken. It was no dream. _He was her best friend_ , she realised, when he called her the worst lady ever, _without even knowing_.

On her way back she had rubbed some more dirt onto her dress and claimed she would have tripped due to carrying the big sword and had earned herself a beating, “Think me fat-headed, you dumb bitch?! I can scent your man on you!” _Time to get rid of him_ , she had decided then. She couldn’t let him watch her every step any longer or else he might find out what she really was up to. Though it had been a necessity, the rumours afterwards had surprised her and she took quite a liking to the nickname, _ghost of Harrenhal_. _Fitting_.

However, she couldn’t enjoy her secret fame for long, she hadn’t thought of Tywin Lannister’s endless row of monsters crawling from his pockets. She had foolishly hoped Weese’s replacement would be better. _Stupid!_ Though, the new understeward had been ignorant and easily fooled, he had been worse. Still, Arya had hesitated to plan his demise, even though it wouldn’t have been much of a challenge. She could have just slit his throat with a stolen or makeshift blade on one of his drunken returns from gambling. But she hadn’t, fearing the next monster Tywin had up his sleeve. After all, she had adapted to this monster quite soon. Yes, she had liked having a bed again, but it had been no big deal to not use it anymore when the new understeward had taken over.

She felt safer sleeping in the godswood anyway and spending more time there could only increase her chances to hear Bran again, she hoped. She had tried to talk to him, calling him. Vainly. But she wouldn’t give up, _one weirwood heart tree was as good as another_ , she told herself, _Bran had managed once, he could do it again_. She had to believe it. Only instead of just sitting below the tree, waiting, she had begun practicing sword fighting again; on the ground and up in the tree, to keep her sense of balance sharp. Though her sword was actually just a stick, each cut, slice and thrust had soon be accompanied by a name; _Joffrey. Cersei. Illyn Payne. Meryn Trant. The Hound. Amory Lorch. The Mountain. Polliver. Raff the Sweetling. Chiswyck. Dunsen. The Tickler_. Those were the people she hated, the people she wanted dead. Punished. Preferably by herself.

Though, she had soon added the new understeward to her list, he had not been a priority. She had vowed not to befriend anyone after King’s Landing and losing Lommy had reminded her to rather stick to that oath. _She had to protect her heart_. Or else it would kill her, along with the Lannisters killing everyone dear to her. Gendry and Hot Pie were the only ones that mattered in Harrenhal, _they were her pack._ For them she would do anything, but the other prisoners didn’t affect her directly. _She wouldn’t allow it_. Anyway, she had tried to help the other girls; had woken them when she had picked the lock and the first few times some of them had followed her out, but soon had stopped. Apparently they had thought beatings worse than being raped and sold. _Fools_. For Arya it was the other way around. A beating she could take, however being raped and sold a whore, she didn’t know if she could endure that. And she wouldn’t take a chance to find out. The girls hadn’t wanted her help, _fine_. _Why risk her life for someone she didn’t care about, anyway_?

So in the end it hadn’t been her they were indebted to for slaying the monster. She had known Gendry had been up to something as soon as he had mentioned her back. So she had followed him, watching the man who had preyed on her fall prey to him. He had avenged her and the other girls. _Not just the ones in Harrenhal_ , she suspected. Arya had seen his face in the storehouse, when he had decided to act against his moral compass. Each time telling himself, he would be doing the right thing; choosing the girl he knew over the girls he hadn’t known. _Choosing her over his honour,_ she thought, still grateful, _he was smarter than to die a stupid hero!_

 _And apparently smarter than her own father,_ as she had found out a few days later; overhearing a chat about a letter Stannis Baratheon had sent to all the great houses. It seemed Ned Stark had chosen honour and died for it _._ Though Arya hated herself, she couldn’t stop from getting angry at her father. He had acted as his _stupid honour_ had commanded him, yet, he hadn’t thought it fit to inform his almost grown daughter about the danger him and his household had been in. He and all those people were dead now, _because he was too bloody honourable!_ _Why couldn’t he just pack his things and leave? Why did he care who sits that damn southern throne?_ _Targaryen. Baratheon. Lannister. It made no difference for them in the North! Did her father even once think of her? How completely unaware and unprepared she had been for what had followed?_ _If only he had said something!_ _She could have helped him! Saved him… no_ , _he wouldn’t have listened! She only could have died alongside her father_ , she realised and recited her list in her mind until nightfall, calming herself, hoping she would have a chance to practice this night. _She needed to practice. Now more than ever, now that she finally knew why!_

After Gendry had removed its latest addition, she was more often forced to recite her list silently in her bed, like a prayer before sleep. Since Lord Tywin, tired of his understewards undermining him with their stupidity, had given her a small room in the Kingspyre Tower; so she could attend to him at all times, even on sudden nightly war councils. Though, Arya hadn’t mind to have a bed again and this time out of reach for the creeps, it didn’t fit as well into her own agenda as she had first thought. Yes, it gave her constant access to vital information, like Stannis’ letter or that her brother had made it to Riverrun by now. But at night she couldn’t sneak off to the godswood as easily as before. If she wanted to practice, she had to prepare the council room first; making sure the hearth was lit for the hour she would be gone and water, wine and some bread and cheese were within reach for the lord and his commanders, so he wouldn’t need to send for her immediately.

 _She needed to practice_. Not so much with a sword, since she hadn’t one, but with Gendry’s gifts. What good were three beautifully crafted blades hidden underneath her dress’s layers, if she was too rusty to use them? Still, she got caught soon. It was only the fourth time she had practiced with the daggers, when she suddenly heard a strange but familiar voice, “A boy becomes a girl.” he said before he stepped out behind a tree. She had been completely unaware of his presence, she realised to her own shock. _How was this possible?_ In the afternoon she had seen him and his two companions ride through the gates at the end of Amory Lorch’s column and had hid instantly behind the next building’s corner. _He couldn’t have seen her then, could he?_ It didn’t matter. _Fear cuts deeper than swords_ , remembering her training, _calm as still water_ , she readied herself for a fight. Luckily, she hadn’t pulled out the second smaller blade, yet, leaving her one hidden trump card. “I was _always_ a girl.” she tried to sound as nonchalantly as possible. “A man knows.” Jaqen H’ghar replied, smiling, approaching her.

“You’re one of them now! I should have let you burn.” she hissed, glaring at him. “A man pays his debts. A man owes three.” he said, when he stopped right out of her arms’ reach, making her feel on edge even more. “Three what?” she retorted coldly. “The Red God has his due, sweet girl, and only death may pay for life. This girl took three that were his. This girl must give three in their places. Speak the names, and a man will do the rest.” he explained, still speaking in riddles. “You want to pay your debt? Get me and my friends out of here!” she countered. But he wouldn’t have it, “Three lives you shall have of me. No more, no less. Three and we are done. So a girl must ponder.” he said, “But not too long.” and turned to leave. Bewildered at what she believed he was suggesting, “I could name _anyone_?” she asked. “Anyone.” he confirmed, without turning back or stopping in his track. _What the …?_

When she had awaken come dawn, she had been convinced it had all been a dream, her going to the godswood to practice and him interrupting with his strange offer. But then she had seen him in the yard, winking at her, putting three fingers on his cheek. _So if it hadn’t been a dream, who should she name?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you don't mind me using Nymeria as deus ex machina to revive Arya's tarnished spirit and that I am foreshadowing the Game of Faces with Arya trying to hide her true intentions from Weese. I wanted this chapter to be all about Arya getting back onto her feet and starting to fight back.
> 
> And yes, I think Ned Stark had been foolish, first choosing to stay with Robert, then cleaning up the mess that drunkard had left behind. He should have chosen his family and his Northern people over the realm. Tywin Lannister was a good ruler, he had proven that much as hand to Aerys, and I think he would have rather assassinated Joffrey himself than allowing the sadistic little shit to ruin the legacy he had built up for the Lannister family and I think Tywin Lannister could have raised Tommen to become a great king. It all could have been so peaceful for the northerners if Ned Stark would have been a smarter man.
> 
> So, now I only have to think on which people Jaqen could kill. Arya is not 10 but 14 and she knows she and Gendry can kill the smaller monsters on their own. Together they should even manage to take out someone like the Tickler and those guys. So that leaves the big ones for Jaqen. The question is which ones? I mean with Sansa not in King's Landing Olenna can't do the necklace thing anyway. But we'll see.


	14. A Storm of Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A list full of people she wants dead and still Arya has trouble to choose three of them to die, so she asks the only two people she can trust for advice. One gives it and the other, well... he is being stupid.

Though Arya had a list full of people she wanted dead, she was unable to decide which three names she should choose. It had been a fortnight since her strange encounter with Jaqen and she had seen the man in the yards on several occasions; each time looking at her, waiting to hear names. _She needed advice_. Hot Pie had not been her first choice but the first she had the chance to ask. While they had broken their fast together at the kitchen, she had asked him in a hushed voice which three people he would want dead, if he had the opportunity to kill anyone he wanted. He had quickly named the Mountain, the Tickler and Raff the Sweetling. _Apparently, she wasn’t the only one with a list_. “Thank you, Hot Pie.” she said, grabbing the last piece of bread and got up, whispering, “Tell Gendry to meet me tonight.” “Are you two plotting anything?” Hot Pie asked confused. “No. I just need to see him.”

 _The Mountain. The Tickler. Raff the Sweetling._ _All three of them deserved to die_ for what they did at the storehouse and killing their friend. And most of all they were here, within their reach. Yet, she wasn’t sure if she should waste small names like the Tickler or Raff on Jaqen. _But what if the Mountain was a too big name? What if Jaqen would die?_ Then she would accomplish nothing, only maybe a target on her back, if Jaqen would be tortured into giving her name up.

When she arrived at the heart tree, he was already waiting, “Are you alright?” he asked. “Yes, no trouble with any understewards anymore.” she assured, tongue-in-cheek, “And you?” “Yeah, fine…” he retorted, with a slight undertone in his voice. “ _What?_ ” she asked confused. “You tell me! Haven’t seen you for almost a moon’s turn and then all of sudden you ask Hot Pie weird questions and want to see me.” his brow was furrowed and he was piercing her with his eyes. Obviously trying to read in her face, what she was up to. “He wasn’t supposed to tell you that.” she rolled her eyes. Gendry just snorted and asked, “So, why am I here?” “I need a sparring partner.” she blurted out. She wasn’t lying. Fighting with a sword was different than with daggers. She had tried to practice alone, but it was no use. With short blades she had to let her opponent get closer than she was used to and it put her at a disadvantage with bigger and stronger adversaries. _Which was literally everyone_ , she had thought sourly. So Gendry, being taller and stronger than most men, would be her perfect sparring partner. _If she could fend him off, she could fend anyone off_ , she told herself.

However, all response she got was a raised brow and a look as if she had gone mad. “ _I’m serious!_ ” she pleaded, “I need to practice.” “I’m not fighting you.” he stated determined. “So you hand me daggers for nothing?” she snorted angrily. “Surely not to take on the Mountain!” he growled, “ _You think me stupid?_ ” His judging brow just wasn’t coming down. “I’m not taking on the Mountain, you idiot!” she hissed. “Then why would you ask Hot Pie who you should kill?” he demanded. “ _I’m not killing the Mountain!_ ” “ _Liar!_ ” he scolded. “I’m not lying!” she countered, “I just know someone who could…” she said in a softer voice, hoping she was right and Jaqen H’ghar could in fact kill the Mountain. “ _Who?_ ” he demanded, still mad. “Someone who owes me his life.” “ _Who?!_ ” “He wants to pay his debt, saying by saving him and two others I’d stolen three lives from the Red God and now I would need to give him three in return.” “Sounds more like you’re the one with the debts!” Gendry snorted annoyed. “Well, technically I am, it seems. But I only have to give the names and Jaqen will do the rest.” “And _who_ ’s that Jaqen of yours?” he demanded angrily. “The Lorathi … from the cage.” she admitted slowly. “ _For fuck’s sake, Arya!_ I told you to stay away from them!” Gendry yelled, rubbing his palms over his face.

She had enough of him treating her like a child and stormed off, “You can’t enjoin me to do anything! _You’re not my brother!_ ” “Yeah, thank the gods I’m not! You drive me nuts!” he retorted. That made her turn back, glaring up at him, “That’s because you suck as brother! Robb and Jon would nev-” “Really can’t wait to meet those guys!” he interrupted, glaring back at her boldly, “Gonna have an axe to grind with them about you!” “Well, good luck then! They’ll kick your ass!” she threatened. “Wouldn’t be so sure about that!” he retorted, challenging. “But I am, you stupid bull!” she shouted and left. _She had her first name_. Though, naming _him_ felt quite tempting as well.

“A girl told her friend.” she heard as soon as she was out of eyeshot from Gendry. “Is that a problem?” she retorted, angry. “A man just noticed.” “Quite a stretch to call eavesdropping _notice!_ ” Jaqen H’ghar chuckled, “A girl is upset.” “ _A girl has a name!_ ” she would not discuss Gendry with him. “A girl is supposed to name three.” he replied, “And _a girl_ will!” she hissed annoyed, “After this one is gone.” Jaqen nodded, agreeing, apparently understanding she was testing him. “How long will it take?” she asked. “Depends on the name. A day, a moon’s turn, a year.” “I can’t wait a year!” she replied shocked. “A girl could give two more names and leave and let me do the rest.” “ _Leave?_ _I’m a prisoner!_ ” “A girl’s brother is winning the war, Arya Stark.” She froze in shock. _How could he know? No one knew!_ “A girl has nothing to fear from me.” Jaqen assured, still smiling, “The name, Arya-” “ _The Mountain!_ ” she said quickly, fearing he would say ‘Stark’ again. Arya had expected to see shock and fear appear in his face when she gave him the name, but Jaqen H’ghar had showed no reaction at all, he just kept smiling, and nodded, “The Mountain it shall be.” before he turned and left.

The following days Arya hadn’t seen the Lorathi. Worse even, the Mountain had left Harrenhal on a mission and Jaqen H’ghar had not been among the Mountain’s men. _How would he be able to kill him now?_ Arya soon began to ask herself, if he had just played games with her _._ She hated to be fooled. But worst of all, she had been stupid enough to tell Gendry, who knew now she had been played. Her bad temper was worsening by day, and it wasn’t before long when she had caught herself snapping at Hot Pie for nothing. She had stormed off blushing of shame then.

So when she saw Gendry in the yard around the kitchen the following day, she had instantly turned on her heel and stormed back to the Kingspyre Tower. Only to stop in her track at once, frowning. _He was chatting with servant girls and kitchenmaids, laughing and smiling_. _Not here to see her!_ And she exploded. She turned around, seeing he had stepped away from the wall he had leaned on in between the girls, looking at her. She stormed right at him, seeing his face turn, from smile to frown to absolute confusion, when she had walked past him. “ _He’s mine!_ ” she snarled at the girls, making him choke on surprise, before she turned to drag him away by the arm. Though, this _thought_ had accidently slipped from her lips, she was too furious to feel embarrassed then. “But I thought you and Hot Pie-” one of the girls retorted boldly. “ _What? No! Never!_ ” Hot Pie assured shocked, glancing over at Jenna, while Arya stared the girl down.

But then hearing Gendry snort with laughter made her turn back, “Don’t you have any hammering to do?” she hissed. “Um, no, someone seemed to have tampered with my forge.” “ _Wasn’t me!_ ” she fumed and shoved him, to get away from all of them. But he caught both her hands, “I know that, _Weasel_.” he chuckled. It was the first time he had called her by her alias, closing the gap between them, whispering, “It was me.” Making her look up confused. “Thought, we could do some practicing during your afternoon off.” he suggested. She hated how easily he could take the wind out of her sails. _Like Jon_. “Doesn’t mean I’m no longer angry at you.” “Same here, you were quite the pain in the ass. Still are!” his voice was serious again, when he intertwined his fingers with hers, studying her face. “There’s nothing like a reconciliation shag!” one of the younger cooks scoffed at them. “Why don’t you say that to my face!?” Gendry challenged, glaring at the man. “Yeah, watch your mouth! That’s my friends.” Hot Pie added, as they watched the man toddle off. “Let’s go, before you stab any cooks or servant girls!” Gendry teased and led her away.

“ _Me?_ ” Arya snorted, “I was perfectly sound!” “ _Sound?_ You had written ‘murder’ all over your face, when you charged at the girls!” he retorted. “ _No!_ I had written ‘murder’ all over my face, when I charged at _you_!” she shot back, “Because you were an arse!” “So were you!” he replied. “Then why did you come to the yard?” she demanded to know. “Hot Pie-” “Gods, that boy is butting in everywhere, isn’t he?!” “Yeah! Said, you would go mental, told me to apologise-” Gendry explained. “So far I haven’t heard any apology.” she interrupted. “Yeah, and you won’t get to hear any!” he countered. Though, they had walked off the kitchen yard holding hands, their bickering got soon worse again and Gendry found himself with a dagger at his throat before they even reached the heart tree. “Dead.” she said. Yet, somehow this way it was easier for them to start practicing. Arya had still been mad at him and had no trouble to unleash that anger on him then. And since she had told him, she had seen Jaqen right after their fight and named the Mountain, he was mad enough to wrench the dagger from her hand, pushing her against a tree and pointing the blade at her throat, “Dead.” “Not so fast!” she teased, pressing the second dagger against his inner thigh. “Yoren.” he smirked. “No. Syrio Forel.” she retorted, “Wait! Let me take off my dress first.” she said, when he grabbed her hand with the second blade.

He let go and stepped back, swallowing. “Don’t worry, aside from two arms you won’t see much more naked skin than now.” she promised, yet, he was about to turn away. “No need for that.” she assured. Why should he turn away for her undressing only to see her undressed afterwards? He had seen her in her bodice and underskirt before. _Only at night_ , she realised. It was broad daylight now. So her fingers slightly trembled, when she began to unlace her dress’s top with him watching. She saw him trying not to look and yet he did, his eyes following her fingers’ every move, making her feel nervous. _Gods, she missed her jerkin and breeches_ … _if she still had them, there wouldn’t be a fuss about any of this_ , she thought angrily. So when she finally stepped out of her dress’s skirt, she quickly snatched the blade hidden in her boot and charged at him again. Though he had been distracted by her undressing, he managed to dodge the attack, “ _Think me that stupid?_ ” he teased. “ _Stupider_.” she retorted, pointing the second blade at his heart, “Dead.”

And soon her missing layer of clothes seemed forgotten, Arya knew when she suddenly was the one who was dead more often. “You were holding back!” she accused him angrily. He just snorted, “What did you think?” He was pressing her back against his chest, holding both her wrists crosswise in front of her, while she tried to wrench herself free to get to one of the three blades scattered on the grown around them. “How was I supposed to practice with you holding back?” she demanded to know. “We’re practicing now, are we not?” he stated. She snorted in a huff. _If she had Needle he would be dead a thousand times by now_. “That’s not practicing, you’re just holding me, enjoying the view.” “Not my fault you can’t wrench free. But, yes, the view’s nice.” he teased. “I’m not talking about the woods, stupid!” she hissed. “Me neither, _stupid!_ ” he retorted, with a low tone in his voice, that made her stomach prickle. She could feel his breath on her neck then, making the muscles in her legs and arms relax and her heartbeat and breath speed up. She turned her head, looking up at him, his face was so close. Their eyes met and she couldn’t stop her lashes from fluttering nervously, urging her to look away. _To get away. But she couldn’t_. That was when she felt his grip loosen and her wits return. _Got you!_ She made to turn to face him, and he let her, not averting his gaze. Carefully she positioned her leg between his, while she held her weight on the other, “Don’t make me do this!” His brows knit in confusion, “Wha-?” She nodded downwards, his frown deepened and he understood just in time, pushing her away, before her knee collided with his groin.

She used his push to let herself fall backwards, grabbing the first blade. “ _Seven hells! You wicked little-_ ” he snorted surprised. “Like I said, _stupider!_ ” she smirked at him and moved to the next blade, “ _Now_ we’re practicing!” She had obviously wounded his pride, since he charged right at her again, to stop her from getting all the blades. When he stepped onto the one she was just grabbing she pushed her full weight against his leg, making him topple. She snatched the blade from the ground and leapt onto him, he was on his back by then, both his hands ready to grab her again. Still, she managed to point at his heart first, “Dead.” Only he didn’t care, grabbing and disarming her immediately, “You’re dead. _You can’t do this!_ ” she protested. “Watch me!” he snarled and flipped them both over, “Now try your little trick again!” he challenged. It was impossible, he pinned her body down with his own. “How would you know? I had to tip you off.” she replied, trying to ignore the slight feeling of panic. “Yeah, won’t happen again.” he stated. “You can’t stay like that forever.” she proclaimed, agitated. “Longer than you might think.” he teased, “And the view’s even nicer than before!” his eyes somehow seemed changed, darker all of a sudden, boldly taking her body in, unnerving her. ” _I yield!_ ” she panicked, almost shrieked.

He was off her with an instant, kneeling in front of her, blushed in shame, apologising, “Arya, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry.” She didn’t reply, she sat up and pulled her legs up against her chest and furrowed her brow. She didn’t really understand, what happened. It wasn’t the first time men looked at her body like that. In fact, in Harrenhal it was daily routine and the only thing she then felt was disgust and anger. And it made her wary of men. _But this was Gendry. This was different_ , it didn’t make her feel disgusted or angry. She couldn’t name it, _it was just strange_. She knew, she somehow had wanted him to look at her like that, really see her as girl. As a woman. But now that he suddenly did, she panicked. And didn’t know why. _What was wrong with her?_ She wished Sansa was here. _She would know! Or maybe not._ _Sansa would never find herself pinned down under a man in a playfight, stupid!_ “Arya, please say something.” he pleaded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, um, you …I don’t know-” she stammered and got up to get her dress.

That was when Hot Pie suddenly stood there, panting. He had been running, “The… _Wait_ , what happened?” he asked, seeing Arya just putting on her dress’s skirt and Gendry sitting on the ground, hanging his head in shame. “I thought you two wouldn’t, you know…” “We don’t. We just practiced with the daggers.” Arya said, nodding at them, laying in the grass around Gendry. Hot Pie picked one up, “Since when do you have blades again?” “Gendry made them for me.” “Ah, and now you beat the hell out of him. Understand. Don’t worry, man, no shame to lose against her!” “ _I know_.” Gendry said gloomy, looking up at her. “ _I’m fine_.” she assured, though in her head a storm of thoughts was raging. “Great, now that we’re all fine. I’ve got to tell you something!” Hot Pie said, “ _The Mountain, he’s dying!_ ” _Seven hells…_


	15. ... like Baratheon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tywin Lannister just doesn't get it. Hot Pie gets ambitious and is suddenly aiming really high, and thanks to Jaqen Gendry finds himself facing the biggest challenge in his life, he needs Arya to jump in and save his ass.

“They say, he would have taken a girl to his quarters and come morning his men had found him lying on the ground, unable to move, with a dagger to his spine and his manhood cut off.” Hot Pie told them. They were grinning at each other, each wishing they had done the deed. “So who shall we name next?” Arya smirked, making Hot Pie look at her dumbfounded, so she explained, “Remember that question I asked you, who you would want dead?” she said, “Well, someone owes me a favour, and I’ve got two more names to give him.” “You know my top three.” Hot Pie smirked himself then. But she was looking at Gendry already. “You saved him. You decide.” Gendry said, quietly. “ _And you helped!_ ” she assured, “I want to hear your list.” “Well, everyone from the storehouse.” he suggested, “But you should probably name someone bigger. Someone important.” “And which important people do you want dead?” she asked, looking at him closely. “You know who. Cersei and Joffrey.” he said reluctant, before he got more determined, “But I’d rather choose Joffrey. For killing Ned Stark.” She looked at him, stunned, not understanding. “ _I owe him!_ He arranged the whole thing with Yoren to get me out of the city. Never got the chance to repay him.” he explained, making Arya swallow. _He owed her father nothing, not anymore_. _Not after all he had done for her_.

“I thought you were a bastard?” Hot Pie asked confused. “I am. But my father was old king Robert.” Hot Pie’s eyes went wide, “ _So, you could be king now!_ ” Gendry stared at him in shock, “ _Huh?_ ” Arya snorted with laughter. “Well, you know, with Joffrey and the others all being incest bastards.” Hot Pie stammered, blushing embarrassed. _Apparently Tywin’s efforts to keep this secret were fruitless_ , Arya thought amused, but then her laughter died down, “ _Hot Pie is right!_ ” she stared at Gendry in disbelief. “ _No, you idiots!_ The throne goes to Stannis or Renly!” he retorted, his brows knitted stubbornly. “Your childless uncles? You think those arrogant southern lords would allow a greyscaled girl to sit the throne?” Arya countered. “ _Doesn’t mean I should!_ Shireen’s children can sit the damn thing! And now leave me be! I’ve got to check if that fucking apprentice managed to refuel my forge.” he stormed off, fuming. “You could be his queen and I could be his Hand!” Hot Pie jested, punching her shoulder playfully, making her choke on surprise, “ _No! You idiot!_ ” “ _Why not?!_ ” Hot Pie asked, feeling insulted. “I don’t want to be a stupid queen!” she hissed and stormed off herself. “Your loss! But I’ll be his Hand!” Hot Pie called after her, sounding determined.

 _Time to focus on what really mattered_ , she thought as she ran back to the Kingspyre Tower. Joffrey would be the second name. Gendry was right, _about time the little shit pays for killing her father._ Now, she only needed to think of a third one. _Cersei?_ Or rather someone else? _Tywin?_ He clearly was the head of the snake. Maybe she should cut him off and make the rest of the Lions run around like headless chickens. _It would help Robb to win the war!_ But was that even necessary? The old Lion ranted more and more often, calling his commanders names, while the alleged green boy from the North was beating him at his own game. And she was already helping Robb. Ever since Nymeria’s attack on the Lannister host, Arya was meddling with Tywin’s war strategies, making the wolf pack target his messengers and scouting parties or hunting down his marauding troops. _Robb was winning the war_. Even Jaqen H’ghar had said so. _Robb would manage_. She didn’t have to name Tywin. Maybe she should rather rid the world of both Lannister lapdogs? Or maybe she would need the third name for someone else, for a still unknown Lannister monster. She decided to wait. After all, _she still had time_. The Mountain wasn’t dead, yet.

As expected, Gregor Clegane dying had been something Lord Tywin hadn’t even thought possible, least in such a foolish manner. The old man had been enraged about Clegane letting himself get killed like that. Arya had barely been able to hide her smirk then. Wondering, why no man questioned how a simple town wench should have managed to take down the Mountain all on her own. _Men, all so big and strong and yet so stupid!_ Even Tywin Lannister, the ever so proud descendant of Lann the Clever! He still had no clue there was a Wolf hiding right under his nose, preying on him. Arya had used to get angry when people underestimated her, but at Harrenhal she had realised, it was in fact her greatest skill, nobody ever suspecting and recognising her as a threat. So it had been no surprise, Tywin Lannister credited her brother with Nymeria’s bold attacks, suspecting either Robb himself would control the pack or that he would have some wilding wargs in his army. _Fool_. _The warg he was looking for stood right in front of him_ , her Stark looks even more pointed out by the grey dress they had forced her into. But it just lay beyond Tywin Lannister’s imagination that his own cupbearer could be the missing Stark princess, even though her accent had immediately told him she was of the North. He was just unable to see her for what and who she truly was.

When Lord Tywin had finally dismissed her, it had been almost midnight, though she had been dog-tired then, she was unable to doze off. On one hand there was the temptation to go see the Mountain on his deathbed and on the other was Gendry. His piercing gaze stealing her sleep. _Well, apparently not the only thing he was stealing_. Her heart was racing and her stomach prickling just thinking of his strange look. It was haunting her. He hadn’t done anything wrong, they had been teasing each other since the kitchen yard and she had even started the whole thing about ‘the view’ and had pushed him not to hold back. _It was fun_. Until, all of a sudden she had been scared of him. And still didn’t understand why. Within a moment it had all been too much and she had freaked out when she couldn’t get away from his eyes.

She really wished, she had her sister with her now, and was surprised it was her advice she wanted and not that of Jon and Robb, though, they obviously were the ones with more experience on the matter. She remembered the first time she had caught Robb kissing a servant girl at the stables, when he had been about thirteen, and how betrayed she had felt; since until then her brothers had always agreed with her on other girls being stupid. And when she had walked in on Jon’s first kiss at the market in Wintertown some while later, he hadn’t even come running after her when she had stormed off, ranting. It had been the first time she had been mad at Jon. He usually was always on her side. No matter what. Theon had told her then, she wouldn’t understand until she would get her first kiss herself. She hadn’t believed him, after all Theon had been kissing girls since she had been born, while Arya had scrunched up her face in disgust, just thinking of a boy kissing her. Until she had met _him_ with _his stormy blue eyes_. _Now she understood._ Now only thinking of Robb or Jon finding out about Gendry made her flush in embarrassment. _She suddenly would have secrets from them_. But then she realised, it was not her brothers’ reaction she feared the most. _Oh gods, what will her mother say? Damn._ Catelyn Tully had sent her daughter south to marry a prince and now a bastard was stealing her heart. _Well, at least she could tell her mother her heart had always known who the true bastard was!_

She had enough then and decided to rather pay a dying man a visit at the infirmary. After all, she could just tell the maester Lord Tywin would want an update on Cregor Clegane’s condition. But instead of a maester Jaqen H’ghar stood suddenly in front of her, “A girl is reckless.” “ _I want to see for myself_.” she claimed stubbornly, and the Lorathi smiled, nodding and led her to a room in the back. Though the door was locked, there was a little hole in it, obviously to provide infectious sick people with food and supplies. “How long will it take?” she whispered. “A moon’s turn, maybe more.” he answered, shocking her, “This man is strong, a man can’t say how much time it will take.” “But he will die, will he?” she asked worried. “Yes. A man has promised this man’s life to the Red God and the god will have it.” Jaqen assured. “I can give you a second name.” Arya whispered, “Joffrey, who calls himself Baratheon, though he is not.” the Lorathi chuckled, “And Joffrey, who goes by the name Baratheon it will be.” he promised, “And the third name?” “I don’t have, yet.” she said, “You will get it when _he_ is dead.” she looked at the Mountain. “As agreed.” Jaqen nodded, “A girl should have some sleep now.”

“ _I can’t_.” she was unable to hide her frustration. “A girl is confused about her friend, the smith.” Jaqen whispered. “Did you ‘ _notice’_ again?” Jaqen smiled, “If a girl likes the smith, a girl should follow.” Arya was reaching for her daggers, “ _What did you do to him?_ ” “The smith is fine. A girl needs not to worry. But there is someone this girl should meet.” She didn’t know what to think, yet, she followed him, over the yard to the Wailing Tower, down to her former sleeping quarters. Jaqen led her to the end of the room, passing by a row of empty beds, but from the coughing she could hear someone was there. When they reached the last bed they heard a weak voice, “Who’s there?” “A friend.” Jaqen replied, lighting a candle. “And who is this?” a haggard woman asked, looking at Arya, worried. “A woman can trust this girl. This girl will help.” Jaqen assured, Arya looked puzzled at him. “A girl gets to know this woman and a girl will understand.” he spoke. “What has this to do with-” she asked, remembering Gendry was a wanted man, “… _my friend?_ ” “A girl will listen and understand. This woman has not much time left.” Jaqen said, making her sit down on the bed aside from the woman’s, Arya watched him leave before she reluctantly turned to face the woman, swallowing, fearing what she would get to hear.

“Who are you?” Arya whispered. “Mhaegen.” the woman responded weakly. “I’m Weasel.” Arya said, though, she felt guilty lying to a dying woman, “Do you know a young smith from King’s Landing?” she asked the woman forthright. “No.” Mhaegen whispered, making Arya frown, “But I am from the capital myself.” “How did you get here?” “On a ship to White Harbour, though, at Saltpans the ship was raided by Ser Amory Lorch and his men. I came here as his prisoner.” the woman explained, coughing. _This was exhausting her_. “And why does Jaqen think I could help you?” Arya asked, handing her some water to allay the cough. “Who is Jaqen is?” “The man who brought me here.” Arya explained, frowning. “How old are you, Weasel?” Mhaegen asked. “Fourteen. Fifteen next year.” “Then we’re almost of age.” the woman claimed, making her look dumbfounded, “I would be turning sixteen soon.” She looked way older. _Was she delirious already or was it because she was so skinny?_

“How can I help you, Mhaegen?” Arya asked. “I’m dying, Weasel. I don’t know how much time I’ve left. Who will take care of my daughter? Who will protect her?” she whispered, her eyes wide with fear. “ _Your daughter?_ ” Arya swallowed, “I’m sure, someone will take her in. There are still good people here.” she assured. But Mhaegen shook her head, “ _You don’t understand!_ ” she removed the blanket from her shoulder, revealing a mop of soft black hair. Arya looked at the infant and back at her mother, bewildered. “You do know who her father is, do you?” the girl asked, smiling. Arya swallowed, shocked, “Is she Gendry’s?” Now it was Mhaegen who looked puzzled, “ _No!_ Don’t you see the likeness?” _The likeness was the problem_ , Arya thought. “I named her after her father. Barra.” It took Arya a moment to understand. “Barra … _like_ _Baratheon!?_ ” Arya whispered, finally understanding, “She’s Robert’s bastard, is she?” Mhaegen nodded, “No one can know! _Not here!_ ” “No one will, not from me! _I swear!_ Your daughter’s secret is safe with me!” Arya promised, knowing the young mother needed to hear this and took her hand, “Listen, Mhaegen, I know now why Jaqen brought me here! There is someone you have to meet. _He’ll help!_ ” she squeezed her hand, reassuring. “I’ll be right back. _With him_. _I promise!_ ” Mhaegen nodded, though she saw fear in her eyes.  

Arya ran over the yards to the forge as fast as she could, climbed up to the window and snuck in to Gendry’s pallet, placing a hand over his mouth. His eyes flew open. “ _You need to come!_ ” she whispered, panting agitated. “ _What is it?_ ” he asked worried, seeing her wide eyes. “There is no time to explain. _You need to come. Now!_ ” she handed him his shirt and pants. “I’ll wait outside. _Hurry!_ ” As soon as he had climbed down himself, she grabbed his hand and wanted to run. But he didn’t move, he pulled her back, making her face him. “ _What’s wrong, Arya?_ ” he was alarmed, studying her face. “ _You need to come!_ There is someone you need to meet!” she said, dragging him forward. “ _Now?_ ” he asked confused. “I swear, if you don’t move your stupid ass now, I’ll kill you!” she threatened, “ _Run! Now!_ ” And finally he did, letting her lead the way. In the yard outside the Wailing Tower Arya stopped and turned to face him, “Promise me, not to freak out in there!” “How can I promise, if I don’t know who’s in there?” he asked, frowning. “ _Promise me!_ Or I’ll start hitting you!” she threatened again, “It’s a girl. Two actually. _They need you_ , so be nice!” “Alright, I promise.” he said reluctant, his frown deeper.

“ _No! No! I can’t do it!_ ” he stumbled backwards from the bed, panicking, “ _I can’t! I’m sorry._ ” Arya ran after him, to find him pacing up and down in front of the Tower, his palms covering his mouth. “You promised not to freak out!” she charged at him, shoving him angry. “Then you should have told me you want me to take in _a baby_ first!” he countered, both panic and fury in his voice now, “ _You can’t make me do this!_ You can’t ask _this_ of me!” he pleaded, looking down at her. “ _Yes, I can! Because she is your sister!_ _And there is nobody else!_ ” Arya retorted, cupping his face. “ _No. No._ How would I do that? Here? In this place? _I can’t!_ ” he obviously wasn’t just talking to her. “ _You can and you will!_ ” Arya demanded, “ _And I’ll help_ and Hot Pie will, too!” He swallowed, “ _No! Arya, please, you can ask anything of me, but not this!_ ” His eyes were wide in panic, “ _We’re in Harrenhal_. _This is no place for anyone, least for a baby!_ ” “ _Exactly_. _That is why Barra needs you! You can protect her!_ Better than anyone else here!” Arya assured, “And we won’t be here forever. _We can take her to my family_ , if you don’t want to raise her. She’ll be safe there. I promise. _It’s just for now! As long as we’re here_ …” But Gendry shook his head, as if unable to stop, “ _I can’t. I just can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t do it. I’m sorry_.” she heard his voice break and saw tears well up in his eyes, before he broke away from her and stormed off. _Fuck_.

Arya returned to Mhaegen, who was sobbing in desperation, “He won’t take her, will he?” Arya had to fight back her own tears, when she sat down next to her, grabbing her hand, “Don’t worry, Mhaegen, _he’ll come around!_ He’s just stubborn and a bit stupid sometimes.” Arya said, assuring the young mother as much as herself. “How can you be so sure?” _Because I will make his life hell, if he doesn’t!_ Arya thought to herself. “ _Because I know him!_ Mhaegen, he is a good man! He’s not like Robert. _At all_. He takes care of people. He protected me when no one else did. _When no one else could!_ I would be dead, if it wasn’t for him. He just needs a bit of time to think about it. That’s all.” “ _I don’t have time, Weasel!_ ” “Don’t worry. I will be here with you as often as I can and I’ll make him change his mind. _I promise!_ ” she said, intent to keep this promise. _To hell with Tywin Lannister! And Gendry, if he doesn’t come around!_

 _He didn’t_. And she hadn’t dared to seek him out, afraid she might push him into the wrong direction if she had. Instead, she had been visiting Mhaegen the following days whenever she could and had even stayed the nights there, to take care of her and Barra, making sure they were not alone, while they waited for him to change his mind. Mhaegen had told her how she had met Robert. How scared she would have been in Littlefinger’s brothel until the king had come and chosen her; how gentle he would have been with her, telling her she would remind him of his lost love. Arya had felt a lump in her throat then. _Barra could be her daughter_ , she realised, if her father hadn’t been the only man Robert Baratheon had ever respected. And it would have been Ned Stark who had arranged their escape from the capital, Mhaegen said. _Just like with Gendry!_ Apparently her father had tried to get Robert’s bastards north, out of the Lannisters’ reach. Mhaegen even claimed, he would have intended to have Barra raised at Winterfell. Arya had no reason to doubt her, knowing her father would have done exactly that.

So when Mhaegen had grown more and more agitated, fearing for Barra, Arya had known what to do. “ _I will take her!_ ” she blurted out. Though, she was scared like hell, she knew there was no other way to give Gendry the time he needed. Mhaegen’s eyes flew open in surprise. “If you’ll allow it.” Arya added afraid. Mhaegen nodded relieved, crying, making tears in Arya’s eyes well up, too. “Mhaegen, I want you to know my true name before you entrust your daughter into my care.” The young mother’s eyes looked at her in panic, so Arya quickly went on, “My name is Arya. Arya Stark. Of Winterfell.” she whispered, for the first time in almost a year she had spoken out her full name, making the other girl stammer surprised, “ _The Hand-?_ ” “Was my father.” Arya confirmed, tears running down her cheeks now. “Why would you do this, m’lady?” “ _Gendry_. I owe him my life! And I won’t abandon his family to their fate.” she said, but that was not all the truth and she wouldn’t lie to Mhaegen now, “And I … he means a lot to me.” Mhaegen understood, smiling at her, taking her hand and squeezing it. “So, will you allow me to take in Barra?” Arya asked the older girl. “Yes, m’lady. _Gladly_.” “I swear, I will do anything in my power to keep her safe. I will guard her with my own life.” “Thank you, m’lady.” And then Jaqen H’ghar was there again, putting a small vial in Mhaegen’s hand, “A woman drinks this when she is ready and will leave this world in peace.” “Take her. Take care of my Barra.” Mhaegen said and let Arya pick the infant up, while she drank from the vial, not averting her gaze from her daughter. “I will.” Arya promised and watched the poor girl fall asleep. “Thank you, Jaqen.” Arya said, looking up at the Lorathi. He nodded at her and left.

Then Arya looked down at the girl on her arm, little more than a year old. _What was she supposed to do now?_ She told herself, if Mhaegen had managed, _she could, too_. _Had to_. “I’m sorry, little one.” she said, “We have to go now.” She squeezed Mhaegen’s hand for one last time and carried Barra away. “I bet you’re hungry. Let’s see what we can find for you in the kitchen.” Hot Pie’s jaw dropped when she walked in with Barra. “She looks like him, does she?” Arya smiled, giving Hot Pie the short version of what had happened. “So, for a change it wasn’t you making him livid the past few days.” her friend jested. “Hot Pie, will you help me? I mean, taking care of her as long as we’re _here?_ ” “ _Sure_. She’s his sister. Means she’s our friend, too, right?” Arya had to wipe tears of relief from her cheeks. _At least she wouldn’t be all alone_. Hot Pie had soon began making faces to make Barra giggle, while they fed her some warm milk and soaked bread.

Not knowing what to do next, Arya took Barra to the godswood afterwards, “Let’s see, maybe you’ll get to meet my brother Bran, I guess that makes him your uncle now.” But of course, they weren’t lucky. Still, Arya sat down leaning against the trunk, telling the tree what had happened, while Barra fell asleep in her arms. Mhaegen had told her which lullabies to sing to soothe her, but apparently ranting about her stupid big brother seemed to work just as fine, “Don’t you worry, Barra, your brother is an idiot, but he’ll come around. Eventually. And until then, you’re my little wolf pup!” Arya told the infant, “And if he is too stupid to see what a beautiful little creature you are, then I’ll just raise you on my own. Then you get to see Winterfell and we can go visit your uncle Jon at the Wall. I bet he’ll give you a Needle, too.”

“Arya, _wake up!_ ” she suddenly heard Gendry’s voice, feeling his fingers tracing along her face. “ _Huh?_ ” she asked sleepy, for a moment forgetting what had happened, snuggling against him lying next to her. Until she felt the sleeping form in her arm. Remembering, she instantly pulled Barra closer, and pushed herself away from him, “ _Seven hells!_ _What do you want?_ ” she demanded angrily, “If you’re here to talk me out of this, telling me I’d be a damn fool and still a child myself, unable to raise her, you can fuck off right again! You know, Mhaegen was my age when she had her and now she entrusted her daughter to _my care!_ So, you can’t take her away from me! I’ll fight you if you’d try! And it won’t be like sparring, I’ll kill you, if I have to! Are we understood?” _Why hadn’t he interrupted her?_ _Why wasn’t he snorting and yelling?_ She frowned confused. He was just studying her face in silence, before he said, “Understood.” his voice low, making her stomach prickle again. When his eyes wandered down to her chest, she swallowed. For a moment she feared, he would get the strange look again. But it was not her body he was looking at and when his fingers carefully caressed the small mop of black hair, he didn’t even seem to notice his hand had been brushing over her bossom for a slight moment. _She had_. Her heart had skipped a beat then and went wild afterwards. “Thank you, Arya!” he whispered and looked up at her again, “I’m in, if you’ll let me.” “Of course, you stupid bull!” And just like that his lips were on hers, sparking a firework of prickling all over her body.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wonder why I made Jaqen help Mhaegen: I was thinking of that pool at the House of Black and White, where sick people can go to and get 'the gift' to end their suffering. So in my story Amory Lorch had attacked Mhaegen's ship at Saltpans, which is close-by the Gods Eye, and afterwards went to attack Yoren's band at the holdfast and this is how Jaqen got to meet Mhaegen. It took them more than a month to get to Harrenhal, so he had enough time to realise she was sick and suffering and to decide he would offer her 'the gift'. But she would logically first want to know her daughter in safety and of course a smart-ass like Jaqen would see the likeness between Barra and Gendry and put two and two together.  
> Jaqen knows this is his chance to kill two birds with one stone. He had seen Arya's potential on the Kingsroad and now also in Harrenhal and he wants to convince her to join the Faceless Men, yet to do so, he needs to win her trust. But she is older than in canon, of course she is more wary and it is harder for Jaqen to gain her trust, so helping Mhaegen and Barra and by that helping Gendry is his perfect chance, since he knows Arya is in love with Gendry and because of that would want to help his family. And also Mhaegen is her first lesson as a Faceless Man, teaching her killing someone (Jaqen's vial) can be a mercy.
> 
> I always wanted Gendry to get to meet his siblings Mya and Edric.  
> 1\. I think Gendry lacks someone older in his life he trusts and could ask for advice, so a big sister would be perfect.  
> 2\. Edric, who seems to have a lot in common with him, only where Gendry thinks he is worth a shit, Edric likes to forget he is a bastard, since both his parents were highborns. So I think it would be quite interesting to see the two of them together.
> 
> But then I thought about Barra. Since I couldn’t let Ned only arrange an escape for Gendry, just because this one of Robert’s bastards was destined to meet Arya to hint at history might be repeating itself. That would have been absolutely out of character for the honourable Ned Stark. So Ned in my story also arranged an escape for Barra. At first I had thought that would be it for Barra in my story, but then I had the idea to this, Arya and Gendry kind of adopting his little sister and I think for their non-traditional relationship that would be quite fitting.
> 
> _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
> 
> SPOILER WARNING  
> And since I had this idea with Barra, I can’t wait to write the chapter when Arya’s little family stands in the courtyard of Winterfell, with all those noble lords and ladies coming to all the wrong conclusion. And I imagine Arya might quite enjoy it, knowing it would make at least some of them refrain from sending marriage proposals.


	16. We're Losing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barra whirls the lifes of Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie around. Though, they're quickly become an unusual little family, all pulling together, each one does it in a different way and Gendry doesn't like the way Arya chooses, not until she reveals to him Barra is not her only concern at Harrenhal.

_He would do anything for her. But this!?_ _How could she ambush him like that?_ _Asking this?_ He knew nothing about how to raise a child, least in a place like this. Gendry’s head had been spinning, unable to ever erase the little mop of black hair from his memory, tightening his chest, choking the air off his lungs, crushing his heart. His ears had been ringing, sick to the core, tasting bile in his mouth, he had run. Away from her and her inexorable demanding. _How could she do this to him?_ However, he hadn’t gotten far, just out of her sight, retching and throwing up in one of the many dark corners Harrenhal provided. There had been moments before, when he had felt the whole world weighing down onto his shoulders, like when his mother had died or in that storehouse. Yet, this was different, worse. She might have as well made him choose either to take in his baby sister or fight the Mountain barehanded. He would have chosen the Mountain, gladly. _Oh gods, why would she torment him like that?_

When she had led him down into the sleeping quarters he had expected anything, anyone. But not that. The woman, Mhaegen, had stared at him in awe, making him frown. His stomach had warned him then, but he hadn’t listened, he had promised _her_. _Idiot!_ He should have run right then. Before that blanket had come down from the woman’s shoulders, crushing his world. Though, unable to remember how he had got there, he had found himself at the godswood afterwards, screaming and cursing his father, hitting at some tree, bloodying his fists, before he had sunk down onto his knees, sobbing.

The days that had followed, he had spent hammering like never before, scaring off the younger apprentices and even hissing at Lucan, who had told him to calm down. He couldn’t. Working from dawn to dusk had been the only way to keep the haunting black mop in his mind’s eye at bay. When Hot Pie had come with their shares, he had spotted his blood-encrusted hands instantly and furrowed his brow, “What happened?” “Hit a tree.” he had growled. “Arya again?” Hot Pie had asked, looking at him, knowingly. Gendry had just huffed, unable to speak his misery out loud and Hot Pie had nodded, accepting his silence without taking any offence, unlike the men at the forge. It was astonishing how well the younger boy knew him now. “Hot Pie,” he said, “ _thank you_.” when the lad had been about to leave. “For what?” “Being here.” “Sure.” Hot Pie had patted his back and walked off.

However, all his efforts to forget what had happened, or more what was about to happen had been in vain. Though dog-tired by nightfall, falling asleep had been getting harder every night and he would wake from nightmares, restless and panting in cold sweat more and more often. Until one night, after yet another nightmare he couldn’t take it anymore. _Was this what his life was going to be now?_ _Him working himself into an early grave? He might as well take the shortcut and hang himself,_ he had thought and got up, washed the cold sweat off his skin and got dressed. Hanging his head, he finally walked back to the Wailing Tower, sneaking in to the servants’ sleeping quarters. Only to find Mhaegen’s bed empty. Like the time before he stumbled backwards, feeling sick. Bumping into one of the other beds, startling the woman sleeping in it, “The woman? The infant?” he asked, his voice breaking. She blinked confused, before she answered, “She died.” “ _And the child!?_ ” he asked harshly. “The girl! She took the child!” the woman stammered, obviously scared. “ _What girl!?_ ” he demanded. “The one taking care of them.” the woman replied, making his eyes go wide, _gods,_ _could it be …?_ Hope flooding over him, he ran.

At the entrance to the godswood he stopped, panting; fearing his hope to find her here would be in vain or worse, it wouldn’t have been _her_ the woman had been talking about. He slowly walked towards the heart tree, his heart pounding in his chest, until the tree finally came into view, causing his heart leap into his throat. Stunned, he stared at the sight in front of him, dreamlike illuminated by the silvery moon up in the sky. He had never seen anything as beautiful as sleeping Arya curled up below the heart tree, holding his baby sister close to her heart. _How could he have been so stupid?_ Yes, she was a fucking pain in the ass, still, she was the most beautiful person he had ever met. There was no doubt about that, now that she had done what he couldn’t, what he hadn’t dared. _For him_ , he knew. And he loved her for it. _No, not only for this, for so much more_. _But for this he would love her forever_. He carefully stepped closer and lay down next to them, watching both girls sleep; making him finally feel at peace again. _This could work_ , he thought and decided to wake her, prepared for her ranting.

However, her protectiveness amazed him, but what else had he expected. That was just who she was. Fierce and strong and wild. And he knew better than to think she wouldn’t mean it. She would kill _anyone_ , who would try to take Barra away from her, leaving no room for any doubt, she could and would raise his baby sister on her own. If anyone would find a way to do so, it would be _her_. How could he have been so afraid of taking Barra in when he had her backing him?

And when she had allowed him to be in, he just couldn’t stop himself, he had to kiss her then and nothing in his life had ever felt so good. _So right_. Until he realised, she wasn’t kissing him back. _Fuck_. He yanked back, fearing he had overstepped her boundaries again and was about to stammer his apologies, when he saw the utter look of surprise on her face. She wasn’t afraid, she was stunned. “What was _that?_ ” she aspirated, staring at him. “Um, if I’ve to explain, I obviously was doing it wrong.” he teased, yet blushing. “Why would you do that?” she asked. “Because you just saved my life, Arya.” he whispered. She blinked confused, looking down at Barra and back at him, “You’re welcome, you stupid bull!” she was smiling at him then, making him cup her face and try again, slower, more careful now and this time she kissed him back. _So right_.

Until Barra stirred between them, making them break apart, yet, he wasn’t morose. He would have plenty of time to kiss Arya now, he thought. And when one set of stormy blue eyes met the other it was all up with him. They both stared at each other in awe. “She’s gonna be a true heartbreaker.” Arya stated amused. “She already is.” he breathed, unable to avert his gaze. Barra tried to reach his face. “Can I hold her?” “You don’t have to ask. She is your sister, stupid!” Arya teased and Barra crawled from her arms onto his chest, studying him closely and then looking back at Arya. “Yes, that is your idiot brother I’ve told you about.” Arya chuckled and Barra giggled in response.     

His baby sister turned out to be easier to handle as he and his two friends had expected. They had feared, she would be crying a lot, missing her mother. But when she did, she was mostly just quietly whimpering. The little one seemed to have an impressive survival instinct, as if knowing she would have to keep her head down at Harrenhal; it made him almost burst with pride. However, Arya wouldn’t leave anything to chance with the child, she had found two dogs to watch over Barra at any time and _trained_ them to attack and raise alarm if anyone else but the three of them would come close to her. So they had soon developed a certain daily routine. Barra spent her days mostly with Arya, since she had a small room to hide her and the dogs for the time Tywin Lannister held his war councils or she took her to Hot Pie when he had time to watch her. Her time off Arya spent now mostly with Barra at the forge, making it harder for him to focus on his work; since all he could think of then was holding and kissing _his girls_.

And Barra indeed was a heartbreaker, the maids were flocking around her whenever they saw her at the kitchen; a toddler had become a rare sight at Harrenhal, reminding them of better times. So it hadn’t been long before Jenna had offered her help as well. At first his and Arya’s protectiveness had protested, but Hot Pie had vouched for his friend and Jenna had proven trustworthy when Barra on some rare occasion had been crying, disturbing Lord Tywin’s war council when Hot Pie hadn’t had time to look after her. Also, unlike Hot Pie or him, Jenna could pose as servant girl and sneak into the Kingspyre Tower at any time to pick Barra up in Arya’s room or return her there without raising any suspicion. So both Arya and he had eventually agreed to accept Jenna’s help, making Hot Pie beam with joy, giving him the chance to get closer with the girl.

In the evenings Gendry took over, picking his sister up at the kitchen yard and Arya joined them in the godswood whenever she could. It was the only place where they could enjoy some undisturbed moments together, pretending they weren’t all prisoners in one of the most dreadful places in all of Westeros; playing with Barra and the dogs until the little one would fall asleep and then practice with the daggers for some time. Though, that was becoming quite the challenge, and not because they both could predict each other’s next moves by now. When he found her pressed against him, Gendry had to fight his own body’s urges almost as much as her. _She wasn’t ready_ for more, he had to remind himself then, to not scare her off again. And it wasn’t like he wanted to get her with child here at Harrenhal, anyway. So, he wouldn’t give in, even if she would want it at some later point, he had vowed to himself. No matter how well they managed with Barra now.

And they really did. He had known that after about two moon’s turns, when he had gone to pick Barra up and Hot Pie had told him Arya would already be in the godswood with her. As soon as she had seen him, she had walked towards him with the little one on her hand, hanging her head, “We’re in trouble.” “What do you mean!?” he had asked alarmed. “Barra, who am I?” Arya had asked and his baby sister had grinned, hugging her leg, “Mummy!” making his jaw drop. “I don’t know where she got that from.” Arya said, looking pained, “I’m sorry.” He had picked Barra up then, kissing her forehead, making her giggle, “Seems, we underestimated you a bit, huh?” he said, before he kissed Arya on her forehead, too, pulling her to his chest, “I don’t mind she calls you that.” he assured, before he carefully added, “ _Unless, you do_ …” fearing not to hear the answer he subconsciously hoped for. “But what about Mhaegen?” Arya asked, guilt written all over her face. “We can tell her later, when she’s is older, can’t we?” Gendry appeased, making Arya nod, still not entirely eased. “So, you little traitor here, have you no shame?” he looked at Barra again, smiling, “Running around, calling some random northern lass ‘mummy’, huh? I’m your relative by blood, how about you show some loyalty and call me ‘daddy’ first?” he teased, playing offended. _It worked_. Arya laughed, “You’re not ‘daddy’, you’re ‘stupid’!” she looked at Barra, “Right, that’s ‘stupid’?” pointing at him, making the little one bubble over with laughter, and actually trying to say it, “Dupi.” “Seriously? Already conspiring against me?” he snorted amused and countered, “Well, little one, then I’ve got some news for you! That one’s not ‘mummy’, that’s ‘pain in the ass’!” earning himself a playful punch from Arya and another from Barra, imitating her. _They were doing great_. “Arya, I don’t want her to be a bastard.” he had whispered later, when Barra had dozed off, “When we tell her, can’t we just leave out the part that she’s my sister?” “Gladly.” Arya had whispered, falling asleep, her head on his chest; and from then on the dead sottish fucker had been out of the picture and _he had a daughter_.  

Of course, his little happiness hadn’t lasted for long. _What had he expected?_ Things just had to go south again, as they always did. Something or someone just had to screw him over, as soon as he felt somewhat content with his life. Only he hadn’t thought it could be _her_ now. Not after all she had done for him and Barra. It had all begun a few days later, with Tywin and his host leaving Harrenhal, making Amory Lorch the holdfast’s castellan. Lorch hadn’t wanted a girl as his cupbearer and had Arya dismissed to be a simple servant girl again. But she had rather used the opportunity to disappear from the scene, before anyone had the chance to assign her to some new monster. And the fool he was, he had believed she would only do it for Barra.

Then he had heard the other men at the forge talk about how the Mountain’s men, now led by Polliver, would have been attacked by the giant wolfpack on their latest raid, the wolves would have found them in a village they were marauding and would have literally besieged them there for days, plucking the Mountain’s men one by one. Not even half of them would have returned now and some would be badly wounded. It had made him wonder if Arya might have anything to do with it. _Could she control a whole pack? One of that size?_ _Over such a distance?_ The thought troubled him. And then the returned Mountain’s men had also started dying. First the four who had been treated at the infirmary, amongst them Polliver and Raff the Sweetling. All their throats had been cut the night after their return. Making the people whisper about the ghost of Harrenhal again, saying it would come for all the Mountain’s men now. _That had been her_. _For Needle. For Lommy_. And he had waited for her to tell him. But she had never said a word. Instead, some days later, Hot Pie had told him the Tickler would have been found dead as well, stabbed. Even he had been suspecting her then, knowing Jaqen had only offered her three names and she had only one left. Still, she had said no word and it made him mad. _As if she knew_ , he thought her reckless for running around alone in Harrenhal slitting people’s throats.

But she wasn’t done, yet. It wasn’t just enough to kill the Mountain’s men. The evening after Gregor Clegane had finally passed away she had come to him and Barra at the godswood, asking him to help her break free the Northerners the Bloody Mummers had captured some days ago. “And how do we do that?” he asked her, fighting the anger boiling up in his stomach. “Lorch sent them down to the dungeon. The one under the Widow’s Tower. That’s just one big cell. You could smash the door open with your hammer-” she pleaded. “While the guards make bets on how many swings it’ll take me, maybe?” he snorted patronizing. “No, we’d need to kill the guards.” “And how are we supposed to do that? Just you and I?” Gendry glared at her enraged, “You think they’d guard a hundred men with only two or three?” “ _We’ve got to try!_ ” she urged. “No, _we_ don’t!” he spat, “ _We_ ’ve got to take care of Barra!”

“Don’t you get it? _This is for her!_ ” Arya snarled, “There are barely a hundred Lannister men left. With the Northerners we could take over Harrenhal and leave!” “You forgot the Bloody Mummers in your little equation!” he looked down at her, raising his brow judgingly, clenching his jaw. “That’s why it has to be a surprise attack!” she stated, unwilling to see reason. “No, Arya, _you listen_ to me closely now!” he stepped forth, standing right in front of her then, threatening, “I won’t wager my life or _hers_ ” he pointed at Barra’s sleeping form on the ground, “for your imbecile thirst of vengeance!” he growled, piercing her eyes with his own. “It’s not for revenge!” she hissed, tears welling up in her eyes, “You stupid mulehead!” “ _I don’t care!_ ” he spat, causing her to slap him in anger and turn to leave. So he seized her arm, wrenching her back around, “No, you won’t turn your back on me!” he hissed, “You don’t get to leave here before you haven’t sworn you won’t free those prisoners on your own!” “Well, then you’ll be waiting till the cows come home!” she hissed back, unimpressed. “Swear it!” he roared, waking Barra. _Damn_. His temper cooled down instantly, “Arya, _she needs you!_ ” he begged. “ _I_ need you.” he added, pleading with her and letting go off her arm. “ _Fine!_ I swear.” she gave in, sighing and lay down next to Barra to soothe her back to sleep.

However, come morning he had to realise she had outwitted him. _What had gotten into her?_ _Why would she go behind his back like this?_ Though, she had kept her vow not to free the Northerners on her own, she had freed them nonetheless. Apparently she had waited until he had dozed off with Barra in his arm and had snuck away to make her damn weasel soup, _changing things between them for good_. Roose Bolton had taken over Harrenhal before nightfall, honouring her, now going by the name Nan, for her help by appointing her his cupbearer. _That girl truly had a talent to always end up at the centre of the storm_.

Others had not been that lucky, Lord Bolton had several household folk executed, guilty of nothing else but serving the Lannisters after Lady Whent had left them behind when she had fled Harrenhal. Lucan had been one of them, making Gendry clench his fists, barely able to hide his fury whenever the spiked heads over the gatehouse came into view. _This was her work_ , he had thought spiteful, just as the poor women, like Pretty Pia, who had been put into stocks for any man to use. Their only crime had been to have lain with Lannister men; Lord Bolton hadn’t cared if they had done so freely. There at the stocks he had seen _her_ again, after three days; days Barra had spent crying for her mummy.

He stepped beside her, “Admiring your work?” he asked, unable to hide his spitefulness. “It wasn’t me who put them there!” she hissed defensively, but he could see the guilt in her eyes. Still, he was mad at her, “ _Yes, you did!_ You and your weasel soup!” he growled. “I didn’t mean to-” she tried. “Doesn’t matter what you meant!” “I didn’t think-” she pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes, “Yeah, that’s the problem, _you didn’t think!_ ” he riposted, “Not of me, not of Hot Pie and not of the little girl who calls you ‘mummy’!” she started trembling at that, but he went on, “Were you really that foolish to believe only the Lannisters would have monsters in their army, huh?” her remorseful look confirming his suspicion, “Gods, Arya, how can someone so smart be so blind and stupid?” “ _I had to do something!_ ” she wiped at her eyes, her voice weak, “I had to get them out. They’re my people!” “ _No_ , Arya! Barra, me and Hot Pie, _we’re your people, your responsibility!_ ” he said unyielding. “But you’re not my _only_ responsibility!” she replied, trying to fight back her tears, “ _I had to help him!_ He’s my broth-” “Oh, please! You didn’t do this for your brother. He isn’t even here.” he interrupted her angrily. “ _You don’t understand!_ ” her tears were running down then, “ _I can’t lose him_ , like father, _like_ …” and at that she ran, straight to the godswood.

By the time he got there, she was sitting in front of the heart tree, her knees to her chest, rocking forth and back. “Oh, come on, Arya, you can’t do this, running away every time we fight.” he said when he sat down beside her. “ _You just don’t get it_ , do you?! I… I’m…” she replied, averting her face. “Yes, I do, you’re sorry-” he retorted. “ _No!_ ” she declared, “I had to get the men out. _For Robb._ They’re his-” “Not this aga-!” he interrupted, only to get interrupted by her, “Because … I’m A-” “You know what, I don’t care!” he replied, fuming, and got up to leave, when she grasped his hand, looking up at him, tears still running down her cheek, “Arya, of House…” His head was spinning, before she had finished her sentence, “Stark of Winterfell.” He only stared at her, shocked, disappointed and hurt. So she went on. “And my brother is Robb Stark. King in the North. _I had to help him_ … _I can’t lose him!_ ” He could swear, his heart shattered into a thousand pieces while she spoke.

“Seven hells, Arya!” he spat, when he finally found his voice again, bending over, holding his stomach, feeling almost as sick as when she had ambushed him with Barra. Breathing heavily, he stammered, “You’re a highborn. You’re a lady.” “No. I mean, yes, but I’m not a lady. My mother is and _my sister_ … _was_.” she admitted, her voice breaking and she started shaking, making his eyes widen, “ _Was?_ ” he asked careful, slowly understanding what was going on with her lately. “ _He_ killed her! Theon killed her. And my younger brothers…” she sobbed, “ _How could he do this?_ He was like our brother. How could he kill them? Rickon was not even nine… I’m sorry, Gendry! I had to try to help Robb. I can’t lose him, too.” _Fuck_. He sat down beside her again, pulling her into his lap, hugging her tightly, caressing her back, letting her sob, “I should have been there! If I had just warged a stupid crow, Lommy would be alive and I would have been home to protect them…” “What happened, Arya?” he asked, ignoring the little voice in his head, telling him, they never would have found Barra if they hadn't been captured. “Theon, he invaded Winterfell with the Ironborn. I didn’t believe it when I heard it first. I thought it was a ruse to make the Lannisters think us weakened.” she snivelled, “I never thought he could actually do it! Betray us like that. Robb was winning the war. Never lost a battle. Not once. And I was intercepting any Lannister messenger and scout I could get a hold of. But still we’re losing now. And I just don’t know why. We don’t even have a home to return to now!” she sobbed, finally getting it all off her chest. “ _You’ll get it back!_ The war is not over, yet. And I’m sure Bran managed to tell Robb you’re alive, here in the Riverlands. So he’ll keep fighting, looking for you!” he assured, “And maybe this would be a good time to reveal yourself to the Northerners now, huh? They’d escort you to him within no time.” “ _No!_ You were right, not only Lannisters have monsters. _Bolton is one!_ The orders he is giving, I know Robb would _never_ approve them.” she said, her anger helping her to cope with her grief.

“Then what are we going to do now?” Gendry asked. “ _Now we’re leaving!_ ” she stated, determined, making him pull back to face her. “No, Arya! You can’t go on being reckless like that. You’re mourning, you’re not in the right mind at the moment.” “I’m doing nothing else but mourning since King’s Landing! Father. My friends there. Yoren. Lommy. Mhaegen. And now my siblings and my home! I’m done sitting around here, waiting for someone to kill me or Robb or you or Barra and Hot Pie next. We’re leaving. All of us!” “Arya-” “Stop belittling me, Gendry!” she warned, “I am preparing for over two moon’s turns now.” she stated, looking up into the tree crown, making his eyes follow her gaze. “People usually don’t look up over their heads.” she explained, causing him to frown. “Don’t you see?” “See what?” he asked staring into the treetop. “Blankets. Cloaks. Cords. Wineskins. A kettle. Food. Arrows. Bows. Knifes. Dirk. Chainmail. Shirts. Breeches. Needle. And two swords.” she recited. “I don’t see a thing.” he stated, before he looked back at her, now kneeling on his thighs, looking down at his face, “That’s because I’m amazing in hiding.” “How did you get all those things?” “Stealing. A bit here, bit there, though, the chaos after the weasel soup provided most of the arming.” she explained.

“Barra and I spent quite some nights under this tree.” he stated. “Yeah. And either your survival instincts got a bit rusty lately or you rely too much on those dogs now.” she teased, bending down to kiss him, making him swallow, “We shouldn’t, my lady.” he pulled away heavy-heartedly. “Don’t call me that!” “But you _are_ a lady.” he sighed, pained. “And I don’t care.” she announced. “But _I do_.” he countered. “That’s because you’re stupid!” she huffed, but him not teasing back made her realise, “ _You’re leaving me…_ ” she breathed. He couldn’t look her into the eyes, feeling the lump grow in his throat, “How about we save that talk for when we actually managed to get out of here?” “Then kiss me!” she demanded, though, it was more of a pleading. “I’d rather not.” he retorted, his heart sinking. “Kiss me, or we’ll have this talk right now.” she threatened, looking absolutely gorgeous. “Alright then, come here.” he sighed, pressing her body against his, when her lips collided with his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought since Gendry didn't (want to) know until now who Arya really is, he never fully understood her motivations (helping Robb, planning their escape) and so he got quite judgy when she didn't stop killing people, meaning, risking her own life, when Barra chose her to be her 'new' mother. He now not only fears what it might do to him, if Arya would die, he also fears what it might do to Barra to again suffer the loss of her mother. 
> 
> But Arya has a different approach to the whole thing. On one hand, she thought Barra wouldn't be safe until they all would be with her family at Winterfell (before Theon happened). And on the other is she right, Barra is not her only family, she still has to protect her mother and siblings. And third, Gendry is right, Arya is still a bit naive, due to barely being 15 by then. And obviously she hadn't yet thought about how she could come home with Barra calling her 'mummy' and Gendry at her side, who everyone, even herself, instantly suspects to be Barra's father and who also intends to pretend to be the father. 
> 
> So tensions rise between them and we'll see how they'll manage. At least now they finally leave Harrenhal behind and it is about time I think about Jenna. Shall I make her a dead end and just leave her behind at Harrenhal (making Hot Pie's heart break as well as Arya's and Gendry's)? Or should I let her make a leap of faith and join the three stupids on their journey through the Riverlands?


	17. He Would Never...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa gets word from Robb, hearing he and their lady mother would argue about the reliability of Bran's vision of Arya. Meera and Jojen arrive at Winterfell and befriend the remaining Stark siblings, before Jojen finally reveals the true reason for them to come to Winterfell ...

Within two days she had held Robb’s response to her messages in her hands. _Understood_ , had been the only word all three ravens had returned to her, assuring her the king in the North had gotten all three of them. Half a fortnight later Robb had sent two more ravens, _Aly intercepted horseface /_ _Bear hunting underfoot_ , telling her, he had tasked Alysane Mormont with finding Arya. _This was good, more than good._  Aly, her daughter and her younger sister Lyra had been visiting Winterfell three years ago and Arya had been overjoyed to meet these young women. They had been sparring and even gone hunting together, just the four of them; which their lady mother hadn’t liked at all, but their father had assured, their daughter would be safe with the young She-Bears. _As safe as one can be_ , he had said, Sansa remembered. They had returned Arya home safely, though, fiercer and more wilful than ever. _They could do it again_ , _they would find her_ , all three Stark siblings had believed and probably Robb, too.

Bran on the other hand had been more than eager to repeat the greenseeing incident, every nightfall when they sat at the heart tree, he had tried to reach out to Arya again – thinking her name, saying it out loud, whispering it and even shouting it. In vain. Though, Sansa had hoped and wished for her younger brother to have another vision of Arya, too, it had soon worried her how frustrated and disappointed in himself Bran was becoming for not ’seeing’ her again. She had reminded him, Arya had been at a heart tree last time, and there wouldn’t be many left in the Riverlands, telling him he probably would have to wait until Arya crossed the Neck before he could _see_ her again. He had nodded, recognising she most likely would be right, but still, Sansa could see Bran pressuring himself, trying to force himself into having another greensight vision of their sister.

Only the arrival of Meera and Jojen Reed about a moon’s turn later had managed to settle Bran. Sansa had been relieved to see her younger brother’s mood finally lifting and both Reeds seemed not to mind to spend time with him no matter his young age. Sansa had thought the boy, Jojen, a bit strange, he often seemed sullen and deep in thought. He was of age with her, still she hardly dared to talk to him. Meera on the other hand was actually quite cheerful, she reminded Sansa of Arya, smart and kind and also a skilled fighter. _This is what Arya would be in a few years_ , Sansa thought on more than one occasion and began to enjoy the young woman’s company just as much as her younger siblings. Bran and Rickon sparred with Meera almost every morning now, which was quite a challenge in the beginning, even though Bran was a skilled fighter himself by now. But Meera fought with net and frog spear, a fighting style neither of them were used to. They had to admit without Syrio Forel’s water dancing lessons they would have barely stood a chance against the quick crannogmen woman. Actually, their dancing master himself had been quite impressed and had sparred with Meera.

And so both Reeds soon became close confidants to the three Stark siblings and it had been no surprise for Sansa. They didn't know much about the Reed family, since Ned Stark barely spoke of them, but whenever he had, he had never failed to call Howland Reed his most loyal bannerman and his children seemed to prove to be just the same. However, what had astonished Sansa, were the secret side-glances Bran would soon cast onto Meera. It had made her wonder if the boy was aware of his more-than-friendly feelings towards the young woman. Probably not, Sansa thought, and she wouldn’t spell it out for him, she wouldn’t want to embarrass her younger brother or get his hopes up, after all Meera was of age with Robb and Jon. But at least it proved Bran’s heart was just as smart as his mind; an excellent judge of character, she thought.

Meera was indeed wonderful, she had provided them with stories about their father and his siblings from before Robert’s Rebellion, stories they had never heard before and she had offered Sansa to spar with her in the godswood, to test how far she had improved her fighting skills during the past few moon’s turns; without embarrassing herself in front of everyone at Winterfell. Sansa had been eager to learn from the older girl and it had delighted her to think how surprised her sister would be to see her sparring with the crannogmen woman. _Arya could send word from Greywater Watch any time now_ , Sansa had thought, certain her sister would seek out Howland Reed as soon as she would reach the Neck.

But instead of their sister, Rodrik Cassel had come ridden through the South Gate some sennights later, he had escorted their mother all her way to King’s Landing, the Eyrie and to Robb’s host. Apparently their brother and their lady mother had argued about the reliability of Sansa’s strange messages. Robb would have immediately understood and wouldn’t doubt, their sister could have managed to escape King’s Landing and would be heading north now. He would argue, Arya had always been excellent to steal herself away, no matter by who or how well she had been guarded. He would think her more than capable to do the same in King’s Landing. Especially since their father had indeed sent several letters home, telling Arya would have _again_ disappeared from the scene, avoiding another courtly event to attend to. For Robb it all would make sense now, explaining, why they not once had gotten any proof of life, like a letter in Arya’s handwriting, to confirm she would indeed be held hostage in King’s Landing. However, their mother wouldn’t have been convinced, begging Robb not to act as if it were true, saying Bran would just be a little boy and she would even suspect the fall would have caused some head injury, making him hallucinate about Arya due to wishing she would finally come home.

 _What had she expected?_ Of course, this all would sound insane to their lady mother, of course, Catelyn Tully wouldn’t jump blindly to the conclusion, Arya would have managed to escape the massacre no one else survived and would now sneak all the way home to Winterfell. But _their mother didn’t know what they knew_ , what it was like to let one’s mind wander, joining it with someone else’s; seeing through their eyes, hearing through their ears, sensing with their skin, scenting with their nose, tasting with their mouth. Of course it was a far bigger stretch for Catelyn Tully to believe her young son a greenseer than it was for his warging siblings.

So Robb had sent a man they all trusted with their lives, their master-at-arms, home to hear the tale with his own ears and report it back. Sansa and maester Luwin had assured the man, Bran would not suffer from any head injuries and it all would be true and to prove her point Sansa had told him about the dream all three of them had dreamt the night their father had died, and instructed him to tell it Robb and Lady Catelyn as well. When the man’s eyes had grown wide in disbelief hearing this, maester Luwin had assured, it would be the truth; telling him, he himself would have dismissed the dream as foolish coincidence only to receive the letter confirming Ned Stark’s death a few hours later.

Then Bran had taken over, telling word by word what he had seen and what he had spoken with Arya, making Rodrik’s eyes grow wider and Sansa had added the short hair would be a clue that it was no hallucination but real. This would be exactly what Arya would do, changing her appearance to hide herself and what better than to disguise as a boy when the Lannisters were looking for a girl.

Rodrik Cassel had stayed at Winterfell for four days. The old knight had intended to return to Robb and their mother the day after he had arrived, but Sansa had insisted he needed to recover his strength and had made him stay for three nights before he would ride back. She had used the opportunity to think of a code for Robb to encrypt their future messages to keep each other posted about Arya. She had thought of multiple codenames for people and places and regions in the North, the Riverlands and the Vale; knowing in case of need, if Arya for some reason couldn’t get north or to Riverrun, she might seek out their aunt and cousin at the Eyrie. Before he had left, Sansa instructed Ser Rodrik to ask Robb to send her a raven with her favourite song’s title to let her know he had received the code and she would respond to that with the name of his favourite childhood hero to let him know they could use the code from then on.

It had taken more than two moon’s turns before finally a raven arrived, saying ‘Six Maids in a Pool’. _At last._ _Now they could keep Arya safe_ , she had told herself, pushing back the doubts, that their younger sister should have come home by now, even if she would have travelled all the way on foot. Sansa wouldn’t allow herself to give in to the dreadful thoughts that Arya might be dead. No, she had to believe in her little sister, _Arya would manage_ , if anyone could, it would be her. _If they didn’t know where she was, how could the Lannisters?_ she told herself. She had to keep her hopes up. For Bran and Rickon. For Arya.

But soon she had to learn, it was not only her lady mother's and her siblings in the Riverlands safety she had to worry about. Some fortnights later Jojen had revealed the real reason for them to come to Winterfell. A dream of his, about a winged wolf in chains and a three-eyed raven from beyond the Wall, telling him to free it and that he would think Bran to be this wolf. Meera had explained Jojen would have greendreams, giving him hints about events happening in the future. Though Sansa had been irritated to hear this, she was in no position to call it madness, not after all she had experienced and witnessed herself lately.

And as if to prove himself, Jojen had told them about a dream he had dreamt twice, once at Greywater Watch and now at Winterfell again, “I dreamed that the sea was lapping all around Winterfell. I saw black waves crashing against the gates and towers, and then the salt water came flowing over the walls and filled the castle. Drowned men were floating in the yard. When I first dreamed the dream, I didn’t know their faces, but now I do. Your septon is one, your smith another and your maester and the old knight with the large whiskers, too.” Meera had explained, though, they couldn’t tell exactly what this dream would mean, something would happen at Winterfell, something bad, causing those people’s death, making Sansa’s flesh crawl and Bran had spoken out what she had thought, “But Rodrik isn’t here anymore!” “He will be and he will die.” Jojen stated, his voice and face lacking any emotions. “ _No!_ ” Rickon had clutched to Sansa, “You can’t let this happen!” making her swallow, “ _When?_ ” she had demanded, trying to sound calm and steady to not further upset her brothers, but neither Jojen or Meera could give her a clear answer. Within days, fortnights or years. Sansa had clenched her jaw at that, “It’s unlikely the actual see will come to Winterfell, we’re in the middle of the continent, right?” she had asked then, looking at Meera, the only person present older than herself and the young woman had nodded, “His dreams are metaphorical.”

So Sansa had called for maester Luwin, Syrio Forel, acting master-at-arms with Rodrik Cassel absent, and Osha to join them in the lord’s solar at once and Jojen had repeated his dream to them, though Sansa had asked him not to mention Luwin this time, sto not scare their good old maester. Afterwards Sansa had called for the commanders of their guards and remaining forces at Winterfell, instructing them to see the battlements and gates repaired and reinforced, and the holdfast and men prepared for an attack in near future and ordered their direwolves to be let in and out of the castle as they please; _they would be their best scouts_ in case of a sudden surprise attack.

Though, Luwin hadn't dismissed Jojen's dream as superstitcious nonsense, he had urged Sansa to inform Robb about a possible threat to Winterfell, but she and Bran both had disagreed. _Robb had enough on his mind_ with the war and finding Arya, they wouldn’t want him to worry about them now as well, “After all, we are given the same lessons in warfare strategies as Robb.” Sansa had announced and Bran had added, “Father always said Winterfell can be held by fifty good men in case of a siege. We’ve got more than that, we’ll manage.” Instead, Sansa instructed their maester to send ravens to all the great Northern houses and remind them again to repair and reinforce their holdfasts, though, Robb had done so before he had marched south. Still, Luwin had begged to at least inform these houses about the threat, but Sansa wouldn’t have it, fearing they might get word to Robb, who surely would send troops home then, men he would need in the Riverlands. However, Sansa had ordered to constantly have a raven and a rider ready to inform their closest bannermen at Castle Cerwyn in case of an attack.

They had prepared on their own, all dreading the day Rodrik Cassel would return to Winterfell. Sansa had felt awful, the old knight had never been anything but kind and loyal to all of them and now _she wished to never see the man again_ , _for him to never return to his home and his family_. But of course the day had come the broad stature with his large white whiskers had stood in the courtyard again. Sansa had been barely able to hide her fear when she had welcomed the man and thanked him for his service, assuring him how valuable he would be for her family and that when Arya would return home, he could be sure, it would be thanks to his bravery and loyalty.

Robb had sent the old knight home again, this time to immediately ride south in case Bran would have another vision of Arya. Sadly, the old ser had to tell them, their lady mother would still not be convinced of Arya’s escape and would wail about her prospects; her daughter to either be dead or imprisoned and dishonoured in King’s Landing or free and dishonoured by a stranger. Robb on the other hand would have laughed with relief and joy to hear their little sister would have found herself a ‘friend’ to protect her, and would not doubt Arya would be alive.

But Rodrik also told them a giant wolf pack, led by a huge she-wolf would roam the Riverlands and rumours would say they would be targeting Lions, causing smallfolk to whisper it would be the ghost of the lost princess, who they thought to have been killed in King’s Landing. But Robb would have had several reports, describing the she-wolf as Nymeria, and Grey Wind would have found his sister’s mark nearby corpses of a Lannister scouting party. Some of his men would say the pack had warned them in advance of surprise attacks and one messenger would even claim the pack would have escorted him to safe territory. So Robb would suspect Arya behind all of it, believing, this might be the reason why she hadn’t come home, yet. _Oh gods, please, this just has to be true._  Sansa's heart had jumped at the prospect of hope.  _It would be so like Arya, to not come home and sit on her hands while Robb was fighting a war_.  _And neither would she_ , Sansa had decided then, inspired by her younger sister. _She would face the threat coming for them and not buckle under the pressure_.

So when reports had come about Ironborn harrying Northern shores and attacking Torren’s Square, she hadn’t hesitated to order the remaining Stark forces to aid their bannermen and show the Ironborn the North would be all but weak. She had been so confident, believing the forces would return victorious within no time and seventy men would be more than enough to hold Winterfell against any attempted attack until then. She had felt so well prepared.  Ever since Rodrik had returned from the Riverlands, she had ordered Bran and Rickon to sleep in her room as well, all of them fully dressed and their weapons and coats within their arms’ reach and two men standing guard outside their door.

Little had she known she had been fooled, having done exactly what their enemy had wanted her to do. Luckily their wolves couldn’t be deceived as easily as her. They had been out the night when Jojen's dream came true. The wolves had been hunting in the wolfswood when they had noticed a small force approaching and it had been Bran’s turn to warg his direwolf to keep watch. So all three of them had been awake even before their wolves had howled and returned through the Hunter’s Gate. Sansa had instantly instructed the two guards to raise the alarm and send the rider and the raven to Cerwyn, while the three of them had run to wake Jojen and Meera, never leaving each others side.

They barely had put their feet onto the courtyard’s ground, meeting with their wolves, when two guards came running, “My lady! Winterfell has fallen! You were betrayed! It’s Theon Greyjoy!” and Sansa froze in disbelief. _This can’t be true_. “ _He would never_ …” she finally stammered, trying to assure her brothers, equally in shock, when Meera’s slap hit her. “We have to flee!” the young woman ordered, just before Syrio and Osha came running, “Ironborn! In the castle!” with a panicking Hodor in tow, repeatedly screaming his nickname. “We can’t run!” Sansa insisted, drawing her blade and her brothers mimicked her. “We have to fight! Protect our people!", feeling castle-forged steel in her hand, reminding her of her training, Sansa managed to sound less shrieking this time. “No, my lady!” Syrio Forel retorted, “Your brother can’t win this war with you three dead or held hostage!” while they heard the fighting come closer from the South Gate. “We have to run!  _Now!_ ” Meera shouted. _Where could they go? Where would they be safe?_ Sansa's mind was spinning in panic, until kind grey eyes appeared in her mind’s eye. “Rickon, get onto Shaggydog!” she ordered, dragging Bran with her, running to the small North-eastern Gate, their wolves, Rickon riding his, and the others following close behind.

“ _Sansa!?_ ” Bran shouted, after she had ordered the guards to close the gate behind them, in hope that might delay their escape being noticed. “ _Wall!_ ” she answered his unspoken question, not stopping in her track, running north as fast as she could and finally letting go of Bran’s hand, realising she was only holding him back. Rickon on Shaggydog stayed close beside them, while Lady and Summer ran scouting the territory in front of them. They couldn’t afford to run blindly into another trap. If it truly was Theon attacking them, he would know they would try to get to Jon or seek out the Umbers at Last Hearth if their way south to Greywater Watch or White Harbour was blocked. _All they had to do was reach the mountain clans_ , Sansa told herself, ignoring her lungs urging her to slow down. There they would get horses and supplies, and could send ravens to Robb and Jon. _They need to know_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had thought about Robb tasking Theon with finding Arya, to spare him from becoming Reek. 
> 
> But that would have meant too many changes for the Northern story arc around the remaining siblings in Winterfell. Either they would have remained there until after the Red Wedding, making Ramsay attack Winterfell to gain power in the North for the Boltons and that would have been a little late in my story for Bran to go beyond the Wall or I would have to come up with an entirely new reason making Sansa, Bran and Rickon flee Winterfell and I am sure that wouldn’t have been as realistic as an insecure Theon giving in to his daddy issues and do something stupid. And like I said in the beginning, as much as I wish I could, I can’t spare all beloved characters from their canon-fate (it is plothole enough I have the Starks run around in plot-armour). 
> 
> So that is why I decided that the young She-bears, Alysane, Lyra and Jorelle aka Jory, were secretly tasked to find Arya with a small force (probably including some men from Winterfell). Why them? Well, I am feminist and the she-bears are just awesome in my opinion and I imagine Arya would see them as role models for herself before she was made to leave for King’s Landing. All Mormont women are fierce and wilful women and strong fighters.


	18. Indebted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thinking Sansa, Bran and Rickon dead, Arya had seen a chance to help her brother and she had taken it. Intent to not lose another one of her family. But then she has to realise, she hadn't helped Robb at all. Instead she had wasted a name and accomplished nothing, but a target on her back, endangering her little pack at Harrenhal. Now she is forced to act. There is no other way left for her ... only forward.

_He just didn’t understand_ , she had told herself when she had left him and Barra under the heart tree and had gone to find Jaqen to ask his help with freeing the Northerners. _She had to do something. She couldn’t sit on her hands any longer._ She had lost three siblings. _She wouldn’t lose another! Couldn’t._ Theon had killed them. _The sweet and innocent ones, the ones who couldn’t protect themselves_. And she had nightmares, ever since she had realised it had been no ruse of Robb. Nightmares of Sansa, her hair fiercely swaying in the wind, loosening her arrows from Winterfell’s battlements onto Ironborn outside, each a perfect hit, until a single arrow of Theon hits her in the heart. Nightmares of Bran bravely duelling Theon with his sword, until the traitor strikes him down with a blow of full force. Nightmares of wild little Rickon, riding Shaggydog and wielding a small Braavosi sword, until the Ironborn surround them and pierce them both with spears. _She couldn’t lose another!_ _And he just didn’t understand._

She hadn’t had to look for the Lorathi, like before he had been waiting for her near the entrance of the godswood, eager to hear the last name. But she had had no name for him, she had needed help. “Three lives were snatched from a god. Three lives must be repaid. The gods are not mocked.” he had spoken, his voice silk and steel, kind and yet warning. “I never mocked.” she had retorted annoyed. _Damn him. Did he think her stupid? That she wouldn’t know what he was doing riding with Amory Lorch? Killing and butchering, that’s all they do! So what was his damn problem now? She would make him regret it!_ “The name … can I name _anyone?_ And you’ll kill him?” she had asked again, angry. “A man has said.” he had assured.

“Swear it! Swear it by the gods!” she had demanded. “By all the gods or sea and air, and even him of fire, this man swears it. By the seven new gods and the old gods beyond count, this man swears it.” he had said. He had barely finished when she had whispered, “It’s Jaqen H’ghar.” and for the first time she had seen the man in distraught,” A girl … makes a jest!?” “You swore. The gods heard you swear.” she had replied coolly. “The gods did hear.” he had confirmed and had drawn a thin dagger. For a split of a moment Arya had feared he would attack her and had reached to her own, hidden in her sleeve. “A girl will weep. A girl will lose her only friend.” he had said, pointing his blade at his heart. “You’re not my friend. A friend would _help._ ” she had proclaimed, glaring at him. “A girl might give another name, if a friend did help?” he had asked, trying to smile again, but had failed. “A girl might.” she had confirmed and he had put his blade away, “Come!” he had said and had grabbed her wrist, “A man will not sleep until this girl unsays a certain name.” pulling her behind towards the kitchen, ordering four kettles of hot soup. _Weasel soup_ , people had called it later.

“A man would hear a certain name unsaid.” the Lorathi had said in the dungeons, when the captives had been freed. “I take back the name.” she had replied, “Do I still have a third death?” “A girl is greedy.” he had said, piercing her with his eyes, “The debt is paid and now a man must die.” “ _What!?_ ” her eyes had widened in shock, and his hand had passed down his face and where it had gone his features had _changed_. “Who _are_ you? _How_ did you do that?” she had stammered. “You have many more names on your lips, Arya Stark. Names to offer to the gods. You could offer them all, one by one.” the man with the unfamiliar features in front of her had spoken, accent-free and in a different voice, “You could come, learn. Learn how to be _faceless!_ ” But she couldn’t. _Gendry. Barra. Hot Pie. Robb. Mother_. _They were all she had left and they needed her_ , she had to keep them safe. “Then we must part.” the stranger had said, giving her a coin, “If the day comes, when you must find me again, give this to any man from Braavos and speak these words, _Valar morghulis_.” “You will still kill Joffrey, right?” she had asked afraid, when he had begun walking away. “Yes. That life has been promised to the gods.” he had confirmed, disappearing into the night.

It had taken her a moment to regain her poise. _Faceless_ , she thought, _like Faceless Men_ , staring down at the coin in her hand _._ Her skin crawled. Syrio Forel had told her about them, “The most deadly assassins in the world. If they come for you, then death is certain.” her dancing master had said. She had heard about them again, in the Red Keep and last in Flea Bottom, when some people had claimed her father would have paid a Faceless Man to get Robert killed to steal his throne. An arrow whizzing by in front of her, hitting a man across the yard, yanked her from her thoughts, she hadn’t even realised she had walked up the stairs and left the Widow’s Tower. The assumed Northern captives and the Bloody Mummers were fighting the Lannisters to gain control over the holdfast. _It was all a ruse. The goat sold Lorch out_ , she had understood when Robett Glover had mistaken them for Vargo Hoat’s men. _But how could she have known?_ _She had to do something. Robb needed help_. And now _they_ do. She snatched a dead man’s shortsword and struck down the Lannister archer who had loosened the arrow and claimed his weapon and his quiver for herself, before she ran over the yards, back to the godswood. She warged one of the dogs to see Gendry and Barra were safe, hiding in some bushes, with no sign of anyone else in the godswood. _Good_. She stayed at its entrance, guarding it. _Them_.

When the fighting finally died down, she snatched more weapons of dead soldiers, since she couldn’t yet say which side had won. Each piece of arming she gained she hid in some brushes close to the entrance; to take them to her secret store later. She couldn’t go there now, not without risking to get caught by Gendry and she was in no mood to hear his reprimanding speech so soon after she had fooled him. _He would have to calm down first_. _Both of them_ , after what she had witnessed just an hour ago. She ran forth and back; to the yard, grabbing anything she could get a hold onto and back to the bushes, hiding her plunder, and to the yard to grab some more. Thankfully his protectiveness over Barra had kept Gendry from leaving the bushes for the rest of the night, giving her time to even relieve two men of their chain armour.

Come dawn she had checked if she might have left any tracks leading to her hidden treasures, before she had gone to the kitchen yard to hear who was in control over Harrenhal now. She had known before she had got there. _We are!_ Her heart had been pounding in excitement when she had stepped into the kitchen to see Hot Pie. "Everyone is talking about you and your weasel soup!" he had said, sounding as if he were proud of her; it had made her blush. She really had believed this would _finally_ be the end of all the terror and fear – for her and her little pack and everyone else at Harrenhal. She had believed her return to Robb and her lady mother would be within her hands’ grasp now.

She had left the kitchen right away, asking Hot Pie and Jenna if they could take Barra for the day. She needed to find out which Northern bannerman would be castellan over the holdfast. _She would reveal her identity to him and_ _she and her little pack would be safe at Riverrun within no time_ , she truly had believed that. _Stupid!_  In the afternoon when she had seen the man in charge ride through the gates, or rather his banner, her heart had sunk. _Seven hells!_ _Bolton_. Lord of the Dreadfort. That holdfast’s name came not by chance. _Was she cursed?_ Of all the bannermen her brother had, it had to be _that man?_

And it got even worse, as soon as Roose Bolton had unhorsed and greeted Robett Glover and the other leading Northerners one of the men had grabbed her arm and dragged her forth, “That’s the weasel who made the soup, m’lord!” Bolton’s cold eyes had pierced through her, making her feel beyond uncomfortable. _Another monster_. _Just as bad as the Mountain_. _Maybe worse_. She had thanked the gods, Bolton had never visited Winterfell since she had been born; he had never seen her. That _man_ had a reputation to read people like others do books. She suddenly had been grateful her instinct had kept her from revealing herself to Glover during his men’s escape from the dungeon. Bolton _could_ return her safely to her brother. Easily. _If he wanted to … but to what prize?_ She wouldn’t allow Robb to be indebted to _this man_ just because she couldn’t await to get to him. _There was a different way_. _They just had to get out …_

However, that had turned out to be trickier than she had thought. Lord Bolton had been impressed by _her_ weasel soup. And it probably had looked as if the soup had been all her idea; with Jaqen gone. She hadn’t seen the faceless man again, neither his old nor his new face. Causing her to assume he would no longer be at Harrenhal. _Gone to kill Joffrey?_ Maybe. It had made no difference for her now. Lord Bolton had decided to reward her by naming her his cupbearer, after making sure she would not be afraid of leeches. _There was only one leech she was afraid_ _of_. The one draining her of her courage every time his icy eyes were on her. _She shouldn’t have wasted her third death on false Northern prisoners_. _It hadn’t helped Robb. Not a tiny bit!_

Roose Bolton had demanded to know her real name, saying Weasel would not suit his cupbearer. _Careful now, that man can spot a lie!_ Her mouth had been dry while she had searched her empty mind for a name to give. _Fear cuts deeper than swords. Calm as still water_ , she had tried to soothe herself until one name had popped up. “ _Nymeria!_ I am Nymeria.” she had declared and _it was no lie_. “But you could call me Nan, if you like, m’lord.” _Still no lie_. “Alright, Nan.” he had approved and from then on kept her so busy she could no longer take care of Barra. Hot Pie and Jenna, covering each other’s tasks, were taking care of her now. _She missed the little one, terribly_ and it clearly was mutual. Whenever she came to the kitchen, fetching something for the lord, Barra’s eyes lit up instantly, only to well up in tears again as soon as Arya made for the door. Small hugs and kisses on the cheek or a quick caressing over the infant’s head was all she could dare. Arya was intent on keeping Barra a secret from Lord Bolton. She would rather break both their hearts, than endangering the child by taking her with her to the Kingspyre Tower.

At night she snuck to the godswood, but Gendry wasn't there with Barra. Two nights in row now. On one hand, Arya felt relieved, escaping his undoubtedly enraged told-you-so-speech for a little longer. _He was right_. As much as she hated to admit it, _she should have listened to him_. She shouldn’t have freed the prisoners, it only had endangered her small pack here at Harrenhal. _It hadn’t made any difference for Robb. And they … they were still dead_ , she thought bitterly. If she hadn’t freed the men, she still would have a name to give to Jaqen, which would be Roose Bolton now, but also would nobody run around talking about any weasel soup. _Bolton wouldn’t even know she was in his holdfast_. She could hide with Barra in the godswood all day long; play with her, watch her exploring the world and hold her while she slept. _She missed the little one_. She was getting used to be called ‘mummy’. Liked it. _Had_. Since now the only times she got to hear it was at the kitchen and it always was so full of longing and despair. Arya kicked against the bark of the trunk, cursing herself. _Flight was the only option they had left now_.

The night after the Fall of Harrenhal she had hid all her new plunder with her other stolen items in the treetop and had snuck back to the Kingspyre Tower to her new old room, quickly checking on Gendry and Barra through one of the dogs eyes and fell asleep from exhaustion. This night she returned to her room immediately and called Nymeria, t _hey would need her_ , at least if they intended to survive their escape. Then she watched Barra and Gendry sleeping at the forge for a while. Even in his sleep his brows were knitted now. _Yep, that speech was coming for her_. There was no doubt about that. _And she deserved it_.

Every time she had to fetch water now, she couldn’t help but stare at the spiked heads above the gatehouse and the poor women in the stocks.  _He truly was a monster_ , punishing and killing simple household folks because they had lacked the courage to defy Lord Tywin. Though, she knew these people would have ended up there no matter if she had been involved in freeing the Northerners or not, she felt sick. Sick with guilt. Each time she looked at them.

There Goodwife Amabel had found her the day before and had threatened, Arya would soon switch places with Pretty Pia, since Lord Tywin would retake Harrenhal within no time. She had angrily swung her bucket at the old woman, threatening to kill her, if she ever dared to come near her again. That vile old witch was one of few servants, who actually deserved to get her head spiked above the gatehouse. Though, the Goodwife’s threat was real, it hadn't bothered Arya for long. _She wouldn’t be at Harrenhal much longer_ , she had promised herself.

However, now it had been Gendry who had snuck up to her, while she had stared at the poor women and the heads. “Admiring your work?” he had scowled at her. _It hurt_ , hearing him blame her. It had been as if he lent his voice to her own accusing thoughts. _He was right_. With almost every word he had said then. She hadn’t thought things through, had endangered them and had indeed turned a blind eye to the monsters in her brother’s armies. Bolton was a monster, _but they needed his men_ , or else Robb would not stand a chance against the Lannisters’ armies. Not after losing Winterfell and _them_. Grief, she had held back for almost a moon’s turn now, had overwhelmed her then and she had run. And he had followed; proving again why he was her best friend.

When she had calmed down and he had finally accepted _there was no other way but to leave_ , they had agreed to meet again after nightfall, all four of them. Before she had ran back to fetch that bucket of water and had cleaned the lord’s chamber. They couldn’t dare to escape if Bolton suspected she would be up to something. And it had benefited her now to have been Tywin’s cupbearer for so long, since she still had managed to get the chamber ready before the lord returned from his inspection of the holdfast.

After nightfall she had been the last one to arrive at the heart tree and apparently Gendry had already told Hot Pie what was going on; since the lad came rushing towards her, upset. _Really upset_. _Mad at her!_ “I’m not leaving here without her! She is my friend!” he declared, fuming. Arya glanced at Gendry, who shrugged. “ _You owe her_ , you two fuckers!” Hot Pie hissed, when he saw it, “ _You owe me!_ ” “Actually-” Arya began. “No ‘actually’!” their friend was furious, “She is coming with us! Or I’ll stay.” She couldn’t help but snort at that with laughter, “Hot Pie, you’re cute!” she said, “Of course, she'll come.” “ _What!?_ ” both of them asked surprised, and Hot Pie added, “Then _why_ isn’t she here?” “ _Because_ the three of us have experience in this. _She not_.” Arya stated, “We’ll prepare and when we’re ready, you two go and grab her.” “ _What!?_ ” Gendry frowned. “You two sneak in, Hot Pie asks her to come and if she doesn’t  _…_ _you_ grab her.” she explained, glaring at Gendry, “We’re not leaving her _here_. She’s our friend, Gendry. And Barra loves her, and so does he!” Hot Pie's blush was even visible in the dim light of the moon. “ _I know that!_ ” Gendry hissed, “I just don’t get why I would need to _grab_ her. It should be her decision.” “ _Because_ …” Arya proclaimed annoyed, “ _we_ don’t have the luxury to wait for her to make up her mind. _She is coming with us_. She’ll regret it if she doesn’t! But she might not see that, yet.” Hot Pie had hugged her fiercely then, “I’m with her!” he had declared and Gendry had rolled his eyes in defeat.

Arya had climbed up into the tree as soon as Hot Pie had let go off her. “Gendry, get up here!” she had ordered, “Hot Pie, you catch! We don’t want to make any noise now.” As soon as Gendry had been within reach, she had handed him noisy things like the chainmail to carry down, while she plucked the less noisy stuff and let it drop into Hot Pie’s arms. When Arya had been sure she had plucked all her plunder from the tree, she had ordered them to get Jenna, “Hey! Where’s Storm going?!” Gendry had turned back, as soon as the smaller dog, the quick grey one, had shot past them. “Scouting the postern!” “And Barra?” he had worried. “Bobby.” Arya had nodded towards the big black one, who had been sitting beside the sleeping Barra, staring Gendry down then.

She had put on her cloak and some breeches underneath her skirts when they finally returned with the girl. Gendry was carrying Jenna over his shoulder, a sullen expression on his face, and Hot Pie was walking behind him, murmuring apologies to the girl. “You _gagged_ her!?” Arya hissed dumbfounded, when Gendry let her down and stepped back. “She was about to scream.” Hot Pie retorted defensively, adding several “Sorry” addressed to the girl. “Jenna, I’m really sorry and so are they.” Arya nodded towards the two idiots, “I’m removing this now and then we’ll explain everything. Just don’t scream! Yes?” Arya said and the girl nodded, still wide-eyed. “What the fuck is going on here?” she huffed as soon as she could, looking wary at all three of them. “We’re leaving. And we won’t leave you behind.” Arya answered and Jenna’s eyes went wider, “Have you lost your minds?” “We know what we’re doing. We just couldn’t tell you earlier, because, um, everything had to look _normal_.” Arya appeased and explained she would have a bit time to calm down and get used to the idea, “You’re safe with the boys. They’ll put on chainmail and swordbelts now and protect you and the little one, and I’ll be right back with horses.” Jenna slumped down onto the ground, looking bewildered at the grass beneath her. Hot Pie sat down across from her, again apologising and assuring he would never harm her. Gendry handed both of them a cloak and walked up to Arya, “Be careful!” he pleaded, cupping her face with one hand; she leaned into it, “I swear. I’ll be back within less than an hour. Don’t leave _her_ out of your sight!” she nodded towards Jenna. He kissed her then and pulled her closer. _He was afraid_. _And so was she_.

For once, it had turned out a good thing that she had been so publicly exposed as Weasel and new cupbearer to Roose Bolton. She hadn’t had to introduce herself to the stable boy, when she had ordered him to ready the four best hunting horses, claiming Lord Bolton would want to go hunting, since wolves howling would disturb his sleep. She had made Nymeria and some of her wolves howl a few times on her way to the stables. The stableboy, about her age, had offered to help her lead the four steeds to the Kingspyre Tower, but she had declined, telling him, Lord Bolton wouldn’t want to see him leave his post and his stables unprotected. She had assured him, he wouldn’t need to worry and walked off with the horses. She felt sorry for the naïve boy and hoped his punishment wouldn’t be too harsh. After all, Roose Bolton should notice that not only his best horses but also his cupbearer had disappeared, who he suspected to be the head behind the weasel soup.

At the godswood the boys strapped their supplies and weapons to the saddles. Arya had talked soothingly to the steeds, gaining their trust, before she explained to Jenna what would happen next. She begged the other girl to stay calm and not look anywhere else but onto her horse’s neck until they would be past the postern. Jenna had only nodded, clearly frightened. Afterwards, Gendry helped the two into their saddles and Arya adjusted their stirrups. Then she wrapped some cloth around Gendry and Barra in his arms, so he would have both his hands free for the ride or a fight, and strapped his cloak onto his shoulders. She felt his tension and his worried eyes on her. He wanted to kiss her again, but didn’t dare. _Didn’t want to let her know he feared for her life_. So she tiptoed and pulled him into another kiss herself. Showing him, it was alright.

“Everyone hoods up.” she ordered, when he had mounted his steed and handed him the reins of hers. Arya assured Jenna and Hot Pie, “Your horses will follow ours! Just hold onto your saddles!” Gendry slowly led the group to the entrance of the godswood; Bobby trotting beside him, faithfully watching over Barra. “I’ll send Storm when the path is clear.” Arya stated, walking on Gendry’s other side, “Trust me!” “I do. Just be careful!” he said, his voice low.

Then Arya and Storm had ran towards the small gate and only slowed down when the postern came into sight. _Calm as still water. Fear cuts deeper than swords_. “Good sir,” she approached the guard, “Lord Bolton sends me. He says you guards deserve some extra coin for keeping this great holdfast safe.” she smiled at the man, whose interest she had caught at the prospect of silver. He was young, not much older than Gendry. Her heart sunk, but _it had to be done_. She showed him Jaqen’s coin and when he reached for it, she let it drop, “I’m so sorry, kind sir. I didn’t expect your hand to be so cold.” she knelt down and so did he, “Never mi-” was all he got to say, before Gendry’s dagger slit across his throat and Arya dove away from the blood spurting. The guard sank down, his hands clutching to his open neck and he looked at her in disbelief. “ _I’m sorry. I truly am!_ ” she meant it, when she watched the life fade from his eyes.

“Storm, get Gendry!” she instructed the dog who shot back over the yards to the godswood. Giving her time to pick up her coin and drag the body into a dark corner, so it wouldn’t be seen from the battlements around them. Then she could _finally_ , after so many moon’s turns, get rid of her skirts. She placed them next to the guard, for Roose Bolton to find; to understand this was her doing. _So not gonna miss these shitty pieces of fabric_ , she thought, when she took the guard’s place until she heard horses approaching. “Open the gate!” Gendry ordered and she went to do so, but soon cursed, “Fuck.” the heavy bar was somehow stuck. He was instantly at her side, “Onto your horse!” he demanded, yanking the bar up and opening the gate. Arya led the horses and dogs through and he closed it again.

She waited until she saw him back onto his steed, before she pressed her heels against her horse’s flanks, urging it to a quick pace; as fast as she dared to with Hot Pie and Jenna. She looked behind, seeing both of them clutching onto their saddles, as she had told them to and Gendry shouted, “Open your eyes, Jenna! You need to look out for branches!” Hot Pie and Gendry had agreed with Arya, at first they would need to get distance between them and Harrenhal and would ride as fast and as long as Hot Pie and Jenna could manage, before they would slow down, and throw their persecutors off scent by following as many shallow streams as they could find. Though, Arya didn’t worry so much about that, _anyone chasing us will regret it!_ _Nymeria sees to that_. But she couldn’t tell the others. _Not yet_.

 _They had escaped, at last…_ she slowly realised. _They were free._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the Faceless Men:  
> In my story their ability to change their features won't be like in the show, with wearing actual faces like masks. Sure, there still has to be some magic behind it, or else people would see it is just a mask, but I don't like the idea that people run around with creepy bags of cut off faces and I think it quite ineffective. Such a bag can get stolen like any usual one and what then?  
> So no, I'm not going to do it that way. I'm more doing it the book way, where the Faceless Men pass their hands down their face and it changes. I think it might be something similar as Melisandre's glamors, just a magical illusion.  
> Or at least that is what I am going for in my story: There is some kind of magic that allows Faceless Men to access the faces 'donated' to the House of Black and White and 'glamor' themselves behind them.
> 
> The dogs' names:  
> As you surely noticed they're referring to old king Robert. I thought Arya and Gendry would love to choose names to mock the man a bit by calling the dogs ‘Bobby’ and ‘Storm’. Because, let’s be honest, that man behaved more than a bastard than any of his children (Joffrey doesn’t count, for obvious reasons). And this way dear old Bobby B. finally watches over his little girl.  
> And it is also reference to me. My first pet was also called Bobby and I loved him fiercely and still miss him. 
> 
> So I thought it kind of funny. But I'm weird. So I'm sorry if you don't like it.
> 
> __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
> 
> And this was finally the last chapter of the Harrenhal story arc. The next story arc will be about their time in the Riverlands (first alone and then with the Brotherhood without Banners). But my outline is still a bit blank there, so from now on it most likely will take me longer to publish new chapters to come up with the ideas. Plus, my summer holiday comes to an end now. Meaning, I also will have less time to write.
> 
> So my apologies to those amongst you, who seemed to like my story (especially to the lovely randomfandomwoman <3) I'm really grateful for your support (kudos, bookmarks and comments), I'm always looking forward for them.
> 
> _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
> 
> On the other hand, since my outline for this Riverlands-story arc is still almost blank, you guys can now make lots of suggestions what you would like read in this story. 
> 
> _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
> 
> RED WEDDING:  
> I'm still absolutely clueless about how I might spare Robb and Grey Wind from the Red Wedding. I only know, I don't want it to be Arya or Nymeria or the Brotherhood charging into the Twins to save him/them.
> 
> I am looking for a good, logical reason why Robb never stepped a foot into the Twins. Like a battle injury or some short noticed crisis that needed his attention, that Catelyn and Edmure went there alone and he was intended to go there later.
> 
> I only know this:  
> 1\. Catelyn has to die. She is the character I hate the most, I blame her and Petyr (only 2nd to her, because he is a fantastic villain) for all the shit what happened and I want her to become Lady Stoneheart. She deserves it.  
> I could never like a woman who blames a motherless child instead of her husband for him cheating on her. I feel sick when I read in the books how much she had loved Ned and how wonderful they were together and what a great mother she would have been. No, sorry. She just sucked at that in my opinion. She turned Sansa into a spoilt idiot brat. She ruined Arya's self-esteem by letting her believe, she didn't think her as beautiful and as good as Sansa. Jon is completely fucked up because of her. She constantly looks down on Edmure, belittling him, who contrary to her was educated in warfare. Instead of going home to her younger sons who need her desperately and when she thinks she lost them she fucks Robb's war by releasing the Kingslayer. So no, that woman deserved all that happened to her.  
> 2\. There will be no Jeyne Westerling, she is the 3rd character I absolutely hate and blame her for Robb's and Grey Wind's death. Especially since GoT-Roslin was so gorgeously sweet. While Jeyne just bores me to death.  
> 3\. There will be no Talisa either, though her I liked much better than Jeyne. But a 20/21 year old Robb is not as foolish and inexperienced with girls as a 16 year old Robb. So no marrying anyone because he shagged her, is completely off the table in my story.
> 
> So, if you have any ideas that fit the bill and you would like to share them with me, please feel free to post them in the comments. You have my thanks already in advance!


	19. Because How Could He Not?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya's pack is on the run from Bolton's trackers and tries to disguise where to they're heading and Arya and Gendry have to have a talk.

They stayed on the road for about an hour, riding as fast as they could, until Gendry noticed Jenna was loosely jumping up and down in the saddle, looking as if she would be thrown off any moment. He rode up to her then, snatching her steed’s reins and slowed both their horses down, “Arya, stop!” he called. “I’m sorry.” Jenna said weakly, looking at him wide-eyed. “It’s fine. You’re doing great.” he assured, yet vainly. The girl was close to tears when they caught up with their companions. “It’s alright, I was just about to ask Arya to slow down myself.” Hot Pie comforted, raising a slight smile from Jenna. “The hardest part is behind us now.” Gendry added, “And it’s time to get off the road anyway, so don’t worry!” “And by the end of the night the Leech Lord won’t know where to look for us!” Arya announced determined. Though, they knew, going off road in the dim light of the moon would slow down their pace greatly and would increase the risk for the horses to trip, they had agreed it would be the safer way. Safer than careering into returning Bolton forces or Lannisters, advancing to retake Harrenhal.

Thereafter, they had left the road at a ford, going north in the shallow gravelly stream’s bed and afterwards they had followed deer passes heading northeast and then they had gone downstream in another shallow brook, heading southeast. Before they had gone west, galloping through meadows and fields until they had followed another stream further north through thick woods, hoping Bolton’s trackers would have lost their scent by then.

Arya seemed quite confident about that, and soon he got an idea why. They were still following that stream north, when they heard _it_. First only a few, distant in the south, but soon more and more wolves joined in. It was getting louder, creeping north. Towards them and spreading around them. Surrounding them. “ _Seven hells!_ ” Gendry cursed, scanning the woods, before Hot Pie’s and Jenna’s panic drew his attention to them. “What’s going on?” the girl shrieked, looking at Hot Pie and him. “I don’t know…” Gendry admitted, and was just about to move his steed beside Jenna’s in front of him, when he realised the animals were far from panicking; slightly unsettled, their ears moving into all directions, but otherwise calm. Too calm. _What the…?_ “Arry!” Hot Pie called, “What’s happening?” getting no reaction. Gendry’s eyes shot up to her, locking with hers, as she turned around just then, announcing, “Relax! It’s just a warning cry. No need to worry!”

And as abrupt as it had started the howling died down, leaving a deafening silence behind; only the wind rustling the trees and the gurgling brook could yet be heard. Still staring at her, Gendry blurted out, “Warning _who?_ ” The sudden sound of his voice startled the others. “Each other, obviously.” Arya retorted, with an annoyed undertone, staring back at him, “It’s just howli-” “ _That’s_ not just howling!” Hot Pie interrupted, “That sounded like the giant pack when they attacked the Lannisters!” “Nonsense! The wolves won’t harm us.” she claimed. “How would you know?” Hot Pie questioned. “ _I know!_ ” Arya snarled, glaring at him then. “ _How?_ ” Hot Pie demanded. “The dogs and steeds are calm, are they not?” Gendry intervened. “Exactly. And now let’s go, we need to find a place to rest.” Arya hissed, casting a glance at him, before she moved her steed further upstream, signalling them to do the same.

Finally, near dawn, they had come across a small clearing, deep in the woods with a small spring close by the treeline; their steeds had found some grass there and the dogs had disappeared into the woods to hunt some mice and the like. If anyone would find them there, it would be by chance, and not by design, Arya had assured. But they wouldn’t help them by lighting a fire; they had agreed not to do so for at least three days.

Jenna took the still sleeping Barra, while Hot Pie set up camp and Arya and Gendry took care of the horses. He waited, until they had removed all the saddles, so Hot Pie wouldn’t hear them, “The howling. Their warning cry, it was for you, wasn’t it?” he whispered, working opposite of Arya, rubbing the steed dry. “Sort of.” she replied, not looking at him. “You’re controlling the giant pack. That slipped you out yesterday.” he stated. “Sort of.” “Come on, you’ve got to give me a bit more than ‘sort of’.” he pleaded, when they moved on to the next horse, “You’re warging hundreds of wolves…” “What!? No, just one.” she chuckled, finally meeting his gaze. “Their alpha.” she added, when she saw his bewildered look. “The she-wolf from hell?” he realised, “ _That’s no myth…_ it’s a direwolf, like your brother’s?” She smiled at that, “Yes, mine. Nymeria.” _The warrior princess_. _Of course!_ He returned the smile. “She’s taking care of Bolton’s trackers.” Arya assured, when they worked on the last horse. “Then why are we going in circles?” he asked, his brows raised. “She can’t be everywhere, and she certainly can’t stop any ravens, stupid!” she snorted, “But she’ll follow us now, covering our tracks. So you better get used to a bit of howling.” making him chuckle.

When they were done, she stepped in front of him, placing her hands on his chest. _Fuck_. She was looking up at him longingly. He knew, she was thinking of what he had told her the day before, or else her hand would have reached up to his face already. He couldn’t bear her look without bending down his head. _Stop!_ _Step away!_ But he couldn’t. _Not yet_. So instead, he pulled her into his arms, pressing her against his chest and placed a kiss onto her forehead; and she let him, closing her eyes and holding on to his jerkin. They had stood like that for way too long and yet not long enough, for neither of them; until they heard Barra’s happy babbling. “Let’s talk tonight.” he suggested heavy-hearted.

She only nodded, and both of them went to pick up the little one, telling Hot Pie and Jenna to get some sleep, before they settled down with Barra on their blankets, feeding her some bread and apple pieces. At first, she eagerly ate and enjoyed having both of them around again, making it easy for them to focus on the little one, avoiding glances at each other, but then Barra saw the horses and was quicker on her feet as they expected. Arya grabbed her, “Not so fast, little champ! Riding lesson number one, never sneak up from behind, you might scare them and get hurt.” Getting up with Barra in her arms, she told him, “You should join them!” nodding towards Jenna and Hot Pie, “I’ll take first watch.”

Gendry sighed and lay down, covering his eyes with his arm. _They had managed to get out_ , and with a bit of luck they could even leave these war-torn lands behind them. And yet, in this moment, his heart wished for nothing more than to be back at Harrenhal. _How was this possible?_ That the worst part of his life had also been the best? People were tortured and killed at Harrenhal, yet he had found a family there. And now _he was free and would lose it all…_ _Were the gods mocking him?_

_They probably were_ … _A cruel jest, though!_ He had been fighting all his life to not be compared with his sire, to not be like him, and then of all the girls in the world he fell for the same one as his father. _Literally!_ He had heard the rumours, just like everyone else. How Ned Stark’s daughter would be the spitting image of her aunt. How King Robert had ridden north to see for himself. How everyone had suspected to hear of her betrothal to the crown prince, but moon’s turn had followed moon’s turn and nothing had happened. Instead rumours had spread about the dislike between the queen and the Hand and about feasts where the king drunkenly had addressed the Hand’s daughter as Lyanna, and some even had said the king would have taken liberties with her. From then on the rumours had spoken of the king and his Hand plotting to set the Lannister bitch aside, so ‘Lyanna reborn’ could take her place. Lyanna … she had been his father’s downfall. _Would Arya now be his?_ Would the loss of her finally make him become his father, make him go down the same dark path as his sire? _At least he had no armies_ , so he couldn’t drag the whole realm down with him, even if _he wanted to_ , he thought bitterly.

_If she just had been honest with him_ … He would have kept his distance. He would have kept her at bay. He would have never allowed himself to fall for her. He would never allowed Barra to call her ‘mummy’ and surely he would have never kissed her. He would have never held her when she slept … That was where it all had started for him. Holding her in his arms, finally having someone who needed him, someone who cared about him, someone who wanted him … _Crap, who am I fooling here?_ How could he not have held her, when she had whimpered in her sleep, battling her nightmares? He hadn’t known what she had been through, but he had seen her eyes, that first day in King’s Landing, when her father had died. He would have held her nonetheless! He may never have kissed her and never allowed her to be so close with Barra … but for him it wouldn’t have made any difference. He would have fallen for her anyway. _Because how could he not?_ Instead of mere hours, he only would have been miserable for several moon’s turns now. _Fuck_.

He tried to clear his mind, to get some sleep. In vain. Instead with thoughts he now was tormenting himself by listening to Arya and Barra, giggling together in utter joy. _How could this be wrong? It felt so right!_ And not only for him. Even his baby sister was madly in love with _her_ , Barra adored her, above all others. And it was no surprise, Arya was amazing with her. Not really conventional, probably as free-spirited as a mother could be, and yet he knew Barra was safer with her than with anyone else. Even now, when he was absolutely positive, he only would have to remove his arm, to see both of them on horseback, no saddle or reins at all. _Knowing damn well he wouldn’t approve_. But still he smiled. Arya would die before she would let anything happen to Barra. So how fucked up was their world, to rip those two apart, who so obviously belonged together, just because one of them was a princess and the other was not?

His two hours were over before he knew. _At least his body got some rest_ , while his mind seemed to be unable to shut up now. When he heard Arya approaching he pretended to be asleep; and stupidly hoped, she would try to steal a kiss. She didn’t. She had leant over him, sighing, maybe thinking of it, but she hadn’t. At least in this short moment his mind had shut up, letting him focus on pretending to be asleep and not swallow loudly. She sat back on her blanket next to him, shaking his shoulder and he pretended to wake up. When he looked at her, her eyes were focused on Barra, chasing Storm over the clearing. “Everything alright?” he asked, knowing it was not. “Yeah, fine. So far nobody is coming after us … _anymore_.” she assured, smirking. “Good, time to save Storm from the little monster. He must be exhausted.” he said, getting up.  

He had grabbed Barra, telling her they would need to be a little quieter now, so Arya could sleep. Which had earned him a frown, the little one had clearly been confused about everyone, including the dogs, being so sleepy during daytime. But as usual he had been able to lure her into a more quiet game, practising some words with her, which she seemed to enjoy more and more by day. Probably due to the immediate sense of accomplishment when naming things correctly. And afterwards they had built some mud cakes, giving Gendry a hard time to not get dirt all over her. The little one had brightened his mood immediately, assuring him, _he wouldn’t become his father._ _Not as long as he had Barra_. With her, he could survive letting Arya go. _She would be his little light in the dark_ , just as she had been for all of them at Harrenhal.

When he had woken Hot Pie, the dogs had finally rested enough and could help the poor lad to bridle Barra, since his friend had barely been able to hide his aching from the hard ride. But _he had tried_ , something the old Hot Pie, the gutter rat from Flea Bottom that he once were, hadn’t even thought of. Gendry had tasked him to feed the little monster and let her tire herself afterwards, hoping she would be asleep again when they would continue their ride. He had lain down next to Arya then, her back towards him, and had closed his eyes and had focused on his future with Barra in freedom. _They could go to Dorne_ , where bastards weren’t disregarded. _Or Essos_ , where no one knew them. _Maybe Qohor, to finish what he had started_ at Tobho Mott’s shop.

It had worked, he had fallen asleep this time. It had worked _too well_. When Hot Pie had woken him, he had found Arya where she shouldn’t be. In his arms. _Damn_. Luckily, Hot Pie had woken him first, so he had carefully removed his arms, before shaking her awake. At least Barra had fallen asleep, as planned, so they had saddled up quickly and strapped her to his chest again. Where she had slept for about two hours, before they had to stop and wrap her a bit differently, so she could see what was going on around her. Seeing she was on horseback had delighted her immediately, especially when they were galloping over fields and meadows again. He had been barely able to restrain her cheers then. But otherwise, the little one had behaved nicely, overwhelmed by things she got to see. They had halted only once more before dusk, to eat together and to let her make water.

For the night they set up camp on a small clearing in the woods again, with a nearby runlet. Barra had been soundly asleep by then, so they had placed her on his blanket and Jenna and Hot Pie dropped down dog-tired onto theirs. All of them were sore from the ride now, even Arya. The eight moon’s turns at Harrenhal had taken its toll, but unlike Hot Pie's and Jenna's, their bodies remembered how to ride and keep the aching at a minimum. But this minimum was still bad enough, and all Gendry wanted now was to drop down on his blanket as well and sleep until dawn. But he knew, it was no use to delay their confrontation any longer. They were too good at avoiding confrontations before, and it always led them to having a worse one in the end. Only this one, he feared, would be their final one. The worst one. Yet, they both needed closure, and most of all Barra. The little one needed stability.

Like earlier, he had wanted to use the opportunity when they took care of the horses. But somehow he couldn’t speak it out and instead, he was getting more unsettled the longer he waited, and she obviously felt the tension, casting him nervous glances. _Damn_. So when they had rubbed the last horse dry, he took a deep breath and stepped around the steed, facing her and quietly spoke out the question he needed to be answered the most, “ _Why_ didn’t you tell me?” It took her a moment to answer and she wouldn’t look at him, “ _When?_ On the Kingsroad, when I barely knew you? In the storehouse? So you could tell the Mountain if he’d picked me? _After_ I told my brother I was no hostage?!” her voice was shaky. “ _Before I kissed you!_ ” he retorted in disbelief. “How should I’ve known when you’d kiss me?” she hissed defensively. “ _You knew!_ I almost kissed you when we sparred!” he riposted hurt, “But instead you led me on!” “ _I didn’t!_ ” she objected, making him pierce her with his eyes. She averted her gaze and added, “I didn’t want to lose you!” her voice was almost breaking.

He huffed at that, “And what about my baby sister? She’s calling you ‘mum-’” “ _Yes. And that is just fine!_ ” she interrupted angrily, “You seem to forget, Mhaegen gave her -” _Of course she would bring his greatest mistake up now_. “Mhaegen was desperate and she didn’t know!” he countered. “Yes, she did!” she spat, making him look dumbfounded, “And she entrusted her daughter to my care anyhow! So Barra would have called me ‘mummy’ with or without you!” “You told her, but not me?” he stammered, feeling a pang in his chest. “You would have _left_ me!” Arya retorted, tears in her eyes. “But, Arya, you convinced Hot Pie and me to come with you, to your family. How did you think that would’ve gone? You returning to them with us and Barra in your arms? When would you’ve told me?” he demanded to know. “ _I don’t know!_ ” she admitted guiltily. That left him stunned for a while. _She really hadn’t thought this through_. “What if I’d tried … _more?_ Would you’ve let me, let me dishonour you?” he asked disappointed. “ _No!_ ” she glared at him. “Yeah, but why? Because you weren’t ready or because your guilty conscience would’ve intervened, for leaving me clueless?” he spat, fighting back the tears that were about to well up in his eyes.

 “ _Clueless?_ You had more than enough hints!” she countered, spilling angry tears now, “How could a commoner afford castle-forged steel? How could my family afford water dancing lessons? Why did I think the Gold Cloaks were after me? How do I know certain things about noble houses and politics? How come I am the lost princess’s namesake and my oldest brother coincidently the king in the North’s? How come I am warging wolves and the Young Wolf mysteriously makes a direwolf do his bidding? Even though I told you skinchanging runs in my family! You never asked me any of those questions! And you know damn well, why. _You didn’t want to know_ , Gendry!” she stated, making him nod in defeat. _She was right_ , he didn’t want to see it.

“ _We never had a chance_ , did we?” he asked after a while of awkward silence between them. “That’s entirely up to _you!_ ” she countered determined and stepped closer. “Arya, you can’t really believe that. You’re a highborn. I’m a basta-” “ _I don’t care!_ ” she declared. “Arya, that’s not your decision!” “Yes, it is!” “ _No…_ it’s your brother’s!” he objected. “And you don’t know him! How he fought for me, when he heard they wanted me to marry Joffrey! Robb will let me choose!” she retorted stubbornly, “He went to war for me!” “Yes, and his men followed him, fighting and dying for him now.” Gendry explained, “They expect _rewards_ for that when the war is over!” he cupped her face, “They want _you!_ ” He could see, she hadn’t thought of that before when her eyes went wide. “Your brother might no longer be in the position to let you choose.” he went on, “And I can’t compete with those men.” “ _Yes, you can!_ You kept me safe! On the Kingsroad. At the holdfast. The storehouse and at Harrenhal. When no one else would … could!” she pleaded, “I’ll tell Robb and all of them! Nobody can deny you a knighthood for that!” “Arya, even as a knight I’d still be too far below a princess!” he reminded her, sighing.

“And with Barra looking just like me and calling you ‘mummy’, it doesn’t matter anyway … no one’s going to knight me! They’d think I’d ruined you!” he continued, “Your brother could legitimise both, me and Barra, as Robert’s bastards, but nobody will buy it! Behind our backs people would whisper and gossip, Barra would never be anything else but _your bastard!_ ” “ _You can’t know that!_ ” she countered desperately. “ _But I do!_ Because there is only one thing worse than a nobleman’s bastard … _a noblewoman’s bastard!_ ” he stated. “ _The North is different!_ No one knows who fathered the Mormont women’s children and nobody cares, or dares to call them anything else than Mormonts!” she retorted. “The Mormonts are a small house on the edge of the realm…why would anyone care?” he objected, “But you’re a Stark. Your house is one of the eldest and most prominent ones in the Seven Kingdoms… _Seven hells!_ ” It dawned on him, “You’re no longer the youngest daughter of a lord!” he swallowed loudly, “You’re your brother’s heir! _His only heir!_ If he dies in this war … The man who marries you will be king in the North!” She gasped at that in shock, and he had to clear his throat, fighting the lump growing there, “ _You’re a priceless trophy now!_ Every man in the Seven Kingdoms wants you! For himself or his heir… even Joffrey would marry you now!” He felt sick, gasping for air himself now, “ _Oh gods_ … People might do worse than calling me and Barra names! Staying with you endangers our lives! _Hers especially!_ ”

Arya stepped back from him, shocked, “You’re taking her away from me?” “ _I have to!_ I’ll take you to Riverrun… and then we’ll leave! We have to!” his voice broke. “ _Please, no!_ We can think of something! _There has to be a different way!_ ” she pleaded and then stated naïvely, “I won’t marry any highborn prick! And _nobody_ can make me marry against my will!” _With the right leverage they can_ , he thought bitterly, but he didn’t have the heart to speak it out loud, so instead he only said, “The world doesn’t work like that!” “ _Then_ _I’ll make it!_ ” she swore angrily and shoved him. “No, Arya, you won’t!” he whispered, when he grasped her by the waist, before he cupped her face with one hand and pulled her closer, kissing her … _goodbye_.

It had been a short kiss and he had stopped it. “I’m sorry.” he had said, when he had looked at her, caressing her cheek, before he had turned away and had picked up Barra, moving his blanket away from hers, so Hot Pie and Jenna would lie between them. He hadn’t dared to look at her again, and had lain down right away, his back towards where she had still stood. He had kissed Barra’s forehead and cheek and had pulled her close to his chest, caressing her back to soothe himself to sleep. Which had been easier than he had suspected, since his mind had nothing to say what he hadn’t said to her already. It had been as empty as his heart, allowing him to doze off into a dreamless slumber. Until Hot Pie woke him up, five hours later, sitting down next to him, making Gendry frown at his friend. The lad took a deep breath, before he looked at him compassionately, “She’s gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know this chapter wasn't really going anywhere and I apologise for that. And also for my lacking writing skills, I know I'm not that good delivering such drama dialogue scenes. But Arya and Gendry had left too many things unspoken and especially Gendry was considerate of Arya long enough and had to get those things off his chest. Now they both can move on and so can the story.
> 
> The warning cry: I got the idea from two sources. First, from a novel I read when I was younger, in which wolf packs have a warning cry to inform other packs about universal dangers like natural disasters and also from “The Lord of the Rings”; when Pippin starts the chain of beacons to inform Rohan when Gondor is under attack.
> 
> Warging horses: I thought since dogs are described to be easy to warg, because they are so trusting towards humans, horses shouldn’t be any different, they as well can form a close bond with their humans, just like dogs and Arya always loved horses. And we know she is a skilled warg in canon, since she managed to warg a cat in Braavos, though cats are described to be hard to warg. So in my story she could keep the horses and dogs calm during the howling.
> 
> P.S. In case you wonder why Gendry is taking care of Jenna in the beginning of this chapter, that is because I thought, since Arya sees them as their pack, they should move like a wolf pack: The alpha female leading the way, the weaker ones in between and the alpha male at the rear. And of course Hot Pie wants to impress Jenna, so he wants to/has to ride in front of her to encourage her to follow him. So that is why Gendry notices first when she gets weaker in the saddle and is closest when she panics.


	20. For Now!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya sees no other option to keep Barra and Gendry safe but to leave. However, she wouldn't be Arya Stark if she wouldn't still take care of her pack.

Hot angry tears were running down her cheeks when her horse carried her away from the clearing. She felt like yelling and hitting someone. _Preferably Gendry, or Robb … or his lords. No! Them, she would not hit. Them, she would kill right now!_ All her life she had fought off attempts to collar her; turning her into a proper lady, Septa Mordane and her mother had called it. They had never understood, _she was no lapdog. She was a wolf!_ Fierce and wilful. _A collar never suited her_. So when that fat old drunkard had tried to chain her to his stupid throne, she had quite the skill set when it came to avoiding restrictions and had easily escaped his dilettantish attempts. She had even managed to sneak out of Red Keep and the capital and now Harrenhal, too. _So how in seven hells had such a noose around her neck escaped her notice?_ _A fucking royal noose_. And it had been her own people who had placed it there. One around her brother’s neck and another around hers, tying them together. And the more her brother fought the more hers tightened. _Her own brother was strangling her_. Had Robb even realised that when he had accepted that stupid crown? She had to keep him alive. _Now more than ever!_ It was no longer just for her own selfish reasons, out of fear to be the only one remaining of their litter. _Her other pack’s safety was tied to his thread of life now_. A little girl she had come to hold dear as if she were her own, and a boy, well, soon a grown man, who had turned her head and her world upside down, to an extent she had never thought possible. _She had to keep them safe_. _All of them_.

After Gendry had stepped away, she had stayed right where _he had left her_ , standing between their grazing steeds, unable to move for almost an hour. Hurt, over his unwillingness to fight for her; for them. Though, her mind had known, _he was right, they never had a chance_. So she had just stood there, silently sobbing, yearning vainly for his comforting embrace. _But she wasn’t just any girl_ , she had reminded herself then. _She was Arya Stark, she-wolf of the North_. She wouldn’t give in to despair. _She would fight for what was dear to her. Until her last breath_. She would do what she had done before – on the Kingsroad, in the woods around the Gods Eye and at Harrenhal – turning her sorrow into _something that suited her better_. _Anger_. Hot boiling, though, determined and dead on target. She had quietly moved around in their camp, preparing her … _retreat._ _Yes, she was retreating. For now!_ _But_ _this battle wasn’t over, yet_. _And neither was the war. Her war,_ for the ones she loved.

It hadn’t taken long to gather her few things, but her pack had needed the rest. So she had watched over them for another two hours, before she had woken Hot Pie, leading him across the clearing, away from Jenna and Gendry. “What’s going on?” he had asked sleepy, but then he had seen her saddled up steed. “ _You’re leaving?!_ ” he looked at her in disbelief. “ _I have to!_ ” she had said, feeling the lump in her throat grow again. “Arya, no, whatever he did or said, he didn’t mean it! Not really _…_ ” Hot Pie had pleaded, understanding instantly Gendry had to be involved somehow. “Yes, he did.” she had objected, feeling tears well up again. “No, please, Arry. Please, stay!” he had begged. “I can’t.” she had stated heavy-heartedly. “I’ll hit him, if you want me to!” Hot Pie had offered, “He’ll kill me afterwards, but I’d do it…” And she had hugged him at that, having felt so grateful for his loyalty and friendship. “Thank you, Hot Pie! But there’s no need for that. He did nothing wrong. _It’s my fault!_ I kept secrets from him. From both of you! For far too long.” she had explained, her voice breaking. “What do you mean?” Hot Pie had frowned and Arya had made him sit down next to her, leaning against a tree trunk.

“I wasn’t honest with you about who I am!” she had begun, “My name is not just Arya. It’s Arya Stark.” Hot Pie had nodded, “ _Okay…_ ” Seeing, he still had been processing the information, she had continued carefully, “Of Winterfell … and my brother is Robb Stark.” At that his eyes had gone wide, “The Young Wolf?” he had asked stunned. “Yes.” “You’re saying the king in the North is your brother…?” he had questioned. “Yes.” “ _Seven hells!_ Then what are you doing here? _With us?_ Why aren’t you with him?” he had stammered bewildered. “Guess, why we’re heading to Riverrun!” she had smiled. “ _Oh, right…_ ”

She hadn’t been in a hurry to leave the three people, who had become her family as much as the one she had been born to. _They were her pack, too_. So she had taken all the time it had needed to explain to her friend what had happened; ever since Robert Baratheon had come to Winterfell. _He needed to know … to understand_ , and Hot Pie had patiently listened. Even when she had told him about the wolves and the warging; and Bran’s greenseeing. As most outsiders, he had difficulties to understand how the skinchanging worked, but he hadn’t freaked out. _He had matured so much_ since King’s Landing. She had realised it before, at the storehouse and at Harrenhal, but it still amazed her, remembering the naïve fool he had once been.

“But I don’t get why you have to leave _now?_ In the middle of the night?” Hot Pie had said when she had finished her tale, “Did your brother send some knights to get you?” “No. But it’s best for Barra I don’t stay any longer.” she had explained. “I doubt that! She’ll cry now as much as she would if you’d stay with us till Riverrun. _You’re her mother!_ ” he had disagreed. “No, Hot Pie, I’m not! Mhaegen was…” Arya had objected, her voice breaking again, “Don’t you understand, she can’t be calling me ‘mummy’ at Riverrun! If she does, people will assume … no, they’d be convinced, Gendry dishonoured me!” “But he hasn’t!” he had retorted, “Or has he?!” “ _No!_ ” she had glared at him then, “You know he wouldn’t do that!” Hot Pie had cast her a strange glance, stating, “I _know_ , he doesn’t want a bastard.” “And that is exactly what people will call Barra! _My bastard!_ Hot Pie, if my brother dies childless, _her life is in danger!_ ” “That’s quite fucked up!” he had remarked helpless. “Yeah, beyond fucked up, I’d say.” she had agreed, “So, you understand why I have to leave?” and he had nodded.

“One thing, Arya, why didn’t you tell him earlier?” he had asked after they had sat a while in silence. “Why don’t you tell Jenna?” she had countered. “I… um, I… don’t want to lose her. You know, her friendship…” Hot Pie had stammered embarrassed. “And there you have your answer!” Arya had stated, “First, I didn’t trust him enough and when I did, it was already too late.” She had gotten up then, offering him a hand to pull him up as well. “Where will you go?” he had asked. “Not far. Just out of sight. But you _can’t_ tell Gendry!” she had told him, instructing, “If anything happens, tell Storm to get help. He knows where to find me!” Hot Pie had only looked at her in disbelief. “ _Trust me!_ I’m keeping an eye on you. I promise!” she had assured. “How?” he had asked. “Wolves, dogs, horses… it works all the same.” she had said, “All you have to do is, keep Gendry from doing something stupid, like looking for me … Nymeria is coming, so tell him I’m with her! And don’t let him take you anywhere else but Riverrun, it lies northwest from here. _Don’t let him fool you!_ Understood?” Hot Pie had nodded and she had promised, “You all find good work there and you can stay as long as you like. And if not, I’ll provide you with an escort to wherever you want.”

She had hugged him then, “Thank you, Hot Pie. For everything! You deserve a knighthood for what you did. And I’ll make sure you’ll get it!” she had vowed, kissing his cheek. Before she had left him on the edge of the clearing, staring at her absolutely stunned, while she had snuck to Gendry and Barra to kiss them goodbye. Her friend hadn’t moved, not until she had mounted her steed and ridden past him, whispering, “Don’t wait until it’s too late!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, this chapter is so short because this was originally only the intro (part 1) to the following Arya chapter. But then I changed some things happening afterwards and it didn’t really fit together in one chapter anymore. That’s why I split it in two. But don’t worry, part two (now chapter 21) should follow within the next 12 hours. Hopefully less…
> 
> And I hope those of you, who were surprised by the cliffhanger in the previous chapter, won’t be disappointed, now that it doesn’t turn out as such a big cliff as you might have believed/feared/hoped (Why? Read below the spoiler warning at the end of the notes). Anyway, I apologise for that. I hate cliffhangers myself, but I felt I had to transport the shock it meant for Gendry to wake up and find her gone. He hadn’t seen that coming. At all. 
> 
> Since Arya left so sudden and surprisingly I wanted to give an explanation what is going on in her now and how she deals with their break up and she does it quite differently to Gendry. He seems to have given up on them, but I hope you understand, that was all due to his upbringing as a bastard – not lack of character or willpower.
> 
> And then I realised, I hadn’t really delved into Arya’s and Hot Pie’s friendship and thought this might be a good opportunity to show the lad isn’t just Arya’s favourite pie maker or the only ever third wheel of the trio. She really cares about him and treasures their friendship and so does he (but that was already hinted at through Gendry’s POV at Harrenhal).
> 
> P.S. Yes, that metaphorical noose Arya uses to describe her feelings about being (or rather believing to be) Robb’s (only) heir is a reference to what happened to their uncle and grandfather. History repeats itself: Robb as eldest (just like Brandon) is desperately fighting to get his sister back (and to keep the other siblings and his parent safe) and in doing so he endangers his own life, which would not only take their physically strongest protector away but also creates new dangers and traps for the younger Stark siblings.  
> \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> SPOILER WARNING!
> 
> Why the cliffhanger wasn’t a real/big one:  
> Well, I’m not much of a fan of Arya travelling with the hound. I love their dynamics in the show (due to the two actors), but to me it’s not that exciting to watch/read it. I find there is almost nothing happening. So the Hound won’t happen that soon and in my timeline the Battle of the Blackwater happened about the same time as their escape from Harrenhal now. And Braavos isn’t happening anytime soon either, since Arya still has too much to live and fight for in Westeros, so sailing east is still quite far in the future as well.


	21. I’m on Their Side!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As before, instead of giving in to grief and sorrow, heartache in this case, Arya gets angry and conveniently stumbles upon some fellows who had it coming and if the storehouse and Harrenhal had taught her anything then it was the power of fear. So she uses it to her advantage. But of course she can't enjoy her victory for long...
> 
> INFO: I'm not at all happy with this chapter... (check out the notes)

They were running through shallow burbling water, looking for the scent.  _She would find it_. Several times they had followed it to some water, dead ends of the track it had seemed; though, she had known better.  _It hadn’t vanished,_   _the water was just hiding it_. But they weren’t the only ones chasing it. So her human had always let her know if they had to go up or downstream. Still, she was getting agitated now. They were catching up, she felt it.  _Behind the next bend_. That thought was not her own, it was her human’s. She forced the pace, knowing soon they would rest.  _There it was!_   _Finally_. She leapt to shore, shaking the water out of her fur and scratched her paws over the tracks and her smaller cousins mimicked her, before they followed her northwest. She knew the way now.

When they came to another burbling water, the scent told her to cross it and she could even hear them. The adult humans, their voices sounded upset, aggressive. But her human wasn’t one of them. She cocked her head.  _I had to leave_. She didn’t understand.  _Follow the water to where the sun rises._   _I’m not far._  And she did.  _There_. Her human’s scent and a steed’s.  _Don’t scare it_. She approached slowly and made her pack find roosting sites in the area around, before she followed the deer path alone, until she finally stood in front of her human’s sleeping form, her mount only a few steps away, eying her warily, but it didn’t flee.

Arya had looked down at herself, realising how much she had changed since she had last seen herself through the direwolf’s eyes. She had even noticed a slight change in her scent.  _Adult_ , it said now. Of course, she had noticed her growth since Nymeria had last seen her and the other changes she could no longer deny, even if she wanted to; she obviously hadn’t kept that stupid bodice for sentimental reasons. Still, it had felt strange to see herself like that.  _A year from now I would be a woman grown …_   _ripe to be wedded and bedded_ , she had thought bitterly. Nymeria’s hair had stood on end at that, though, not understanding her human’s thought, her body expressed Arya’s discomfort about it, nonetheless.  _Never mind, girl!_

The direwolf’s whimpering, her soft snout pressed against her cheeks, had woken Arya up and she had hugged her long lost friend fiercely, “ _There you are!_ ” she had snivelled into the wolf’s neck, “ _Gods, I’d missed you so much…_ ” She had been clutching to it as if it were a lifeline keeping her from drowning; until her wolf had begun to contort herself in her arms. She had let go then, “ _I’m sorry_ , Nymeria!” she had pleaded, her eyes welling up again, “ _I’m so sorry_ …  _I was so stupid then_. I should’ve run with you!” she had feared her friend couldn’t forgive her and Nymeria had looked at her for a moment, as if thinking if she should accept her human’s apology. But then she had licked Arya’s face and had wrestled her down, covering her with wet kisses, as if Arya were ten and Nymeria just a fluffy pup in her arms again.  _A giant pup now!_  When they had calmed down, Arya had snuggled against Nymeria for the remaining two hours of darkness.  _Just as good as_   _him_.  _No, better_.  _Way better_ , she had told herself when she had dozed off again.

Come morning Arya had accompanied the direwolf to her pack, meeting its leading members. A proud male of a slightly darker shade of grey than Nymeria had seemed to be her second in command. He was large for a common wolf, suggesting the assumption a few drops of direwolf blood might be running through his veins. He had fondly greeted Nymeria when they had stepped out from the bushes and had approached Arya without fear or hesitation, welcoming her in their ranks.  _Was he her mate?_  Arya had eyed Nymeria curiously, the corners of her mouth rising in amusement, “A handsome not so little secret you kept from me there, huh?” she had teased her direwolf, who had licked the other wolf when he had boldly nudged Arya’s hand, inviting her to ruffle his fur. “Well, I guess, I should call you Mors then? Would you like that?” she had asked, giving in to his request, before more and more wolves had followed his example to welcome Arya as one of their own.

From then on the pack had followed close behind Gendry and the others; mostly just staying out of sight, as she had promised Hot Pie. But that hadn’t been enough for Arya. By nightfall she would make Nymeria take game to their camp. The first time she had done so, Gendry had been gone hunting and Hot Pie had been sitting on his blanket, rocking Barra to sleep. So Jenna had seen Nymeria step from the treeline first, screaming in mortal fear, making Hot Pie jump up alarmed and startling at the size of the giant wolf standing only a few yards away from their camp. Arya had made Nymeria put down the three rabbits and push them towards them with her snout, before stepping back, signalling she wouldn’t be a threat. Hot Pie and Jenna had been staring at her, unmoving. So Arya had made Storm and Bobby approach her; Jenna had gasped at that, but Hot Pie had understood, seeing the direwolf roll over the ground submissively, allowing the dogs to sniff at her.

“Nymeria?” he had stammered, right before Gendry had stepped from the treeline, an arrow pointing at the direwolf, while he had moved to Hot Pie and Barra.  _Are you blind, you idiot!?_  Arya had wanted to yell. Thankfully Hot Pie had placed a hand on his arm then, “ _Don’t!_  That’s Arya’s wolf. Or so I think…” She had been staring at Gendry through Nymeria’s eyes, and he had stared right back, frozen in his movement until he finally had blinked, lowering the bow. She had pushed the rabbits further towards them, before turning to leave. “ _Arya!_  Is that you? Are you in there?” he had called then, making her eyes dart back at him, “ _Come back! Please_. We can sort things out …” he had pleaded, “We could teach her to call you by your name. She’s so smart. She can do it!  _Please…_ ” Nymeria had felt her yearning and had uttered a small whimper.  _No! I’m a danger to them._  She had made the wolf walk away. “Arya, please!” Gendry called again, “At least let us know you’re safe.” She had turned her head once more, looking at him and lowering her head, hoping he would understand the nod, before she finally had disappeared into the woods. 

Gendry’s supplication haunted her and it took all her willpower to not give in to his pleading. Still, she continued sending Nymeria to their camp at nightfall, to provide them with game and to show them they were safe. However, it was almost half a fortnight later, before Arya dared to warg Nymeria again while going there; hoping Gendry would think the direwolf was coming  _alone_ now, and wouldn’t try to plead with her anymore. Her friends were still wary of the giant wolf and wouldn’t dare to approach her, Arya realised; though, they greeted and even thanked her now. Apparently understanding she intended to provide for them, since Gendry was also there now. He studied her closely, making her feel awkward and insecure, even in Nymeria’s skin and he detected it instantly, “Arya!” It was no question, it was a statement; the sudden flicker of hope in his eyes proving it.  _Damn_. She fled the scene immediately, but he came running after her, “Arya, wait!” So she had made Nymeria snarl at him, to make him stop in his track.  _Seven hells!_

After that, she hadn’t dared to visit them through Nymeria anymore and had instead only watched them at night, through the dogs’ eyes when Gendry had been asleep; allowing her to be close to him and Barra, inhaling their scents and even daring to snuggle against them; to feel them. She knew she was tormenting herself, but the urge to be with them was stronger than reason.  _She would stop when they would reach Riverrun_ , she kept telling herself, though a part of her knew it was a lie.  _Necessary_ , to keep the hurt at bay and her going,  _functioning_.

Arya slowly adapted to the new situation and was eager prove herself to Nymeria’s pack. Those wolves were fighting for her, ever since she had arrived at Harrenhal, so the least she could do was to contribute. She took care of injuries and went hunting with them, her arrows finding their target even when the wolves couldn’t sneak up to game without being noticed, and when they came across a stream she went fishing; the wolves driving the fish into her self-made trap basket, covered with moss and green branches, and she would quickly block the exit with a lattice, catching so many fish, she could barely lift the basket from the water afterwards.

Though, her resourcefulness had soon assured her the respect of the pack, her position at Nymeria’s side she hadn’t secured until the pack came across a small hamlet being sacked by marauders about a fortnight later. Gendry and the dogs had carefully led their party the long way around the area and Arya hadn’t had to skinchange to see his with fury storming glare and his tight clenched jaw over his enforced idleness. That expression was engraved into her mind’s eye, forever connected to her memories from the storehouse. And for once Arya was glad she was no longer travelling next to him. She didn’t have to look the other way and a dark smirk was building at the edges of her lips then.  _Time to vent her anger. To fight back! Finally!_

The pack silently encircled the seven buildings of the hamlet, creeping closer and waiting for Nymeria’s signal. Arya moved Needle’s scabbard under her cloak and approached the small village; she walked straight to the well at the centre. “ _My_ , what’ve we here, lads?” one of the marauders whistled when he saw her coming, drawing everyone’s attention to her. Just as she had planned.  _Fool_. “Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?” she asked in a honeyed voice, “I could come back later, when it’s more convenient.” she continued smiling and the harassed villagers and marauders stared at her in equal disbelief. “ _Run, girl!_   _Run for your life!_ ” a kneeling man with a heavy bruised face shouted, earning himself a kick in the gut. “She’s not going anywhere!” The man next to the assaulter announced, revealing himself as their leader, while some of his men attempted to encircle her in a not very subtle way; taking in her body greedily.  _Blind fools_.  _All of them_. Arya smiled, “Yeah, he’s right. This looks fun.” she confirmed, “I think I’m gonna like it here.” drawing a wave of cheering laughter from the men. Her smile widened into a grin.

“ _So…_  who’s first?” she asked challenging and the men hooted over their alleged luck.  _Men_.  Arya chuckled over their stupidity, seeing the wolves sneaking up to the houses. “ _I am!_ ” the one who had spotted her first called. “Do you have a death wish, Kaeth?” one of them snorted. “I think  _he does!_ ” Arya responded, before anyone else could, “But there is no need to squabble,  _lads_. I’m not in hurry. I’ve got time. You all get to have your turn.” she playfully turned around, eyeing each of the twenty-three men, “ _I promise!_ ” she teased cheerfully. They almost had encircled her now. But  _Nymeria had her back_. “ _So_ , I assume you’re in charge here?” she addressed the brute with the thick salt and pepper beard, who had denied her to leave. “Aye, that’s right.” he smirked, puffing himself up. “So, how would you like it?” Arya continued her teasing, “Right here, in front of all your men? Or rather somewhere more private?” causing the men to bawl again. “I’ve got nothing to hide!” he haughtily grabbed his crotch. “Aren’t you a cocky one?!” she smiled. “ _Well_ , what are you waiting for?  _Time to get what you deserve!_ ” she invited him grinningly, and he closed in on her, wetting his lips, completely oblivious of the four blades waiting for him. She kept smiling and reached playfully for her cloak’s laces. She turned around once more, teasing the other men who watched her desirously.

But none of them noticed her left hand grabbing Needle, while the right one loosened the cloak’s laces. “ _Now!_ ” she called in the same instant her cloak came lashing down onto their leader’s face, right before Needle slit across the man’s throat. His men had no time to react, wolves were leaping at them, before most of them had realised what happened. The three that had, had drawn their swords, keeping the wolves at bay. But not her. She charged at each of them, the cloak in her right hand had given way to Gendry’s dagger. Dodging the first one’s blow with it, Needle quickly found its way into his ribcage, tilting the blade, she ripped it out and whirled around, dodging the blow of the second man, slicing Needle over the back of his knees and driving the dagger through his neck. Again tilting the blade, before she ripped it out. She left both men to the wolves and leapt straight at the third, who was shaking to see himself confronted with Nymeria. “Good, girl. I’ll take it from here.” she said, patting the direwolf’s shoulders.

The man had pissed himself and threw his blade away as soon as Arya charged at him. He dropped to his knees and begged, “Please, have mercy!” “Doesn’t look like you had mercy on him?” she pointed to a dead villager, “And what about the half-naked woman over there? Don’t tell me she’d begged for it!” Arya snarled unforgivingly. “Please, I didn’t mean to! I had orders!” he sobbed desperately. “Maybe you should’ve chosen your leaders more carefully then!” she hissed, grabbing him by the collar now, “Stop whining! I’ll let you live … Though, not out of mercy. I don’t know such thing!” she growled, “But someone needs to tell the tale, don’t you think? So, crawl back to your snake pit, and crawl quick! Your masters need to understand the Ghost of Harrenhal is very real and I certainly don’t care on which side you stand in this war …  _I’m on their side!_ ” she pointed at the villagers, “And I’ll hunt each and every one down, preying on the weak and innocent ones! So, run, you craven, before I change my mind!” As soon as she let go, he tumbled backwards, trying to get up and run. “One more thing, scumbag! Next time my wolves get wind of you, you’re dead! And rest assured, they’re everywhere, from the Gods Eye all up to the wall!” she shouted after him, before she turned around.

Nymeria and her wolves were already dragging the bodies to the woods and she let them. She walked over to the man who had warned her, cutting his bonds, “Thank you!” she said. “What for?” he stared at her. “For standing up to them!” she smiled and went straight to the assaulted woman, “I’m sorry we couldn’t be here in time.” The woman flinched when Arya addressed her and looked at her wide-eyed, still in shock. So Arya cut her bonds carefully avoiding to touch her and moved on to free the small boy next to her, to see from the corner of her eye the first man had picked up a marauders blade and freed the others. “ _Who_ are you?” the boy asked, looking at her in awe. “They call me the Ghost of Harrenhal.” she replied, knowing, she could not give him her real name, not even ‘Nymeria’.  _Thanks to Roose Bolton_.

“How can we thank you?” an old woman asked, probably the village elder. “There is no need for that.” Arya assured. “Is there nothing we could repay you?” “Um, well…” she replied, “Maybe news about the war, but only if you can provide.” “That we certainly can!” offered the man with the badly bruised face, “What would you like to know?” “The latest battle outcomes and recent troop movements might be helpful.” she looked at him. “Well, after Lord Renly’s untimely death the Baratheon armies had flocked to Stannis. But his attack on King’s Landing had failed. The Old Lion had joined forces with the Tyrells and they drove the stags back to the sea.”  _Fuck_. She tried to hide her disappointment from the villagers. “And a Tyrell girl is to marry that false Lannister king.” a woman offered.  _Fuck_.  _This is even worse_. “I don’t think she’s interested in marriage brokering news, Janyce.” “Oh, no. I am. This was very helpful, thank you, Janyce. But do you have any news about the Tullys and the northmen?” The bruised man continued, “Um, the Young Wolf is still fighting in the Westerlands.”  _What?_  “Who holds Riverrun then?” she asked, barely able to hide her shock. “That would be Lord Edmure Tully. Lord Hoster had passed away.” Her uncle and grandfather, she had met neither.  _And her mother? Where was she?_  Arya wanted to know, but didn’t dare to ask about her, fearing that would give away too much.

“Uh, one more thing, the Kingslayer got free.” “ _How?_ ” she demanded puzzled, knowing Robb had him imprisoned for almost a year now. Their gazes went to the ground.  _What!? What is it?_ she wanted to scream. “The Lady Catelyn,” the bruised man continued, “they say she released him.” “ _What?_ ” Arya blurted out, “ _Why would she do that?_ ” “For her daughter.” Janyce explained compassionately, “The one that went missing in King’s Landing. They say Lady Catelyn had freed him in exchange for her daughter’s freedom.”  _What!?_   _Had Bran not told her? Why!? He had more than a half year to get the message to her and Robb. What went wrong?_   _Bran was old enough to understand the importance. Or had she just dreamed it? No, that can’t be! Gendry heard it, too. Or had she imagined that as well?_ _What the fuck went wrong!?_

Her head was spinning. “But that was …  _foolish!_ ” she finally managed to stammer, “She can’t know the Lannisters still have … the girl!” It felt weird, referring to herself like that again, and for an instant Jaqen’s changing features appeared in her mind’s eye. She knitted her brows, putting that memory aside. She had to focus now, to think about what to make of this news. It was Janyce who spoke again, “It’s because what happened in the North. The Ironborn attacked Winterfell, the family seat of the Starks, and killed the other daughter and the younger sons there.” “ _So?_ ” Arya asked confused, “What’s that got to do with the Kingslayer?” “ _You wouldn’t understand!_  You’re too young to know mother’s love.” Janyce explained. “ _No, I’m not!_ ” Arya retorted slightly offended, ignoring the curious looks from the villagers at that. But Janyce had a point, Arya realised, wondering,  _what would she do? If she would think the Lannisters had Barra_? Her mind stubbornly riposted,  _Not releasing the Kingslayer!_  and then added,  _since you wouldn’t sit on your hands, waiting for someone else to get you your daughter back! You would fight all seven hells to free her!_

But who was she to judge her mother, calling Lady Catelyn’s action foolish. The Lannisters had joined forces with the Tyrells and even secured the Rose’s loyalty to the Iron Thrown by marriage. _That was entirely her fault._ Arya had known instantly this had changed the course of the war. A turn for the worse for the North. _Again_. The two richest and most powerful houses united, opposing her brother now. _Fucking Tywin._ Their father had warned them, calling him one of the smartest men in Westeros. _And she let him live! Damn._ So he could unite his warfare talents with those of Randyll Tarly. Another man her father had praised for his wits. _Seven hells_.

Upon her return to the pack she had been pacing up and down, desperate to find a way to retrieve her error. Nymeria had nudged her snout at her in an attempt to comfort her, “I made a mistake, girl … _a big one_.” she told the wolf remorseful. _Again_. She had always hated being stupid, but this war had taught her wounded pride wasn’t the worst outcome from making mistakes. _Had she cost her brother the war? Oh, gods..._ Just a day ago her biggest problem had been to deal with her broken heart. Completely ignorant of her actual foolishness, her actual mistakes. She had been so blinded by her drive for revenge at Harrenhal and had chosen her targets for selfish reasons. She should have chosen names like Tywin and Cersei. Or the Spider or Littlefinger. All those clever minds aiding the Lannisters against her brother. _Damn_.

She had known what to do, even before she had returned from the village. But she had dreaded to make this choice. _They had just found each other_. So she had tried to come up with an alternative. But there was none. The only actual power she had in this war was Nymeria and her pack. _They had to part again…_ “I’m sorry, my friend.” she told Nymeria, hugging her, “Our brothers need you now! You have to help them.” It was the only way. The only one that might allow her to tell Robb she was alright; Gendry had sensed her presence, when the wolf’s body had accidently expressed her feelings. Maybe Robb could sense it, too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> INFO: I'm not at all happy with this chapter... it all seems a bit rushed and empty. I'm planning to redo it at some later point (maybe when I've finished the story). So, you should see it more like an outline of this chapter or as a passage to the following chapter, which hopefully will be better.
> 
> Right now, I am not in the mood to write another heavy-hearted parting, so that will happen off screen. But separating Nymeria and Arya was necessary, because staying with the pack gives Arya too much power, as you can see when she finally gets the chance to actively take on cowardice marauders. Arya and the pack would cleanse the Riverlands from marauders and other smaller forces within no time. But that would be just too easy, and that is also one of the reasons why Arya won't go to the Westerlands with the pack, though her main reason for that, of course, is her human pack. She couldn't let them wander through the Riverlands all on themselves.
> 
> And hopefully you don't mistake Arya's bold behaviour in front of those pillagers for arrogance. That was an act to keep them distracted, to keep them from noticing the wolves closing in. She knew very well she took a risk by walking into the hamlet all on her own, not knowing how many men exactly there were or how well-trained they were in close combat That is why she turned around more then once, to keep an eye on all the men, to avoid being grabbed by one from behind. And her speech for the one she let escape, she only held in hope he would spread the tale about what happened at the village, to scare off other potential marauders and rapists. So don't worry, she isn't in danger to go megalomaniac.


	22. Misery Loves Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gendry, Hot Pie and Jenna realise the pack had left, no longer providing them with game. Though, they had come across some vegetables, Gendry decides to go hunting, to not plunder their freshly restocked supplies. But he almost immediately comes to regret his decision, painfully. Literally.

They had reached the Trident and were following it upstream to Riverrun now, where Hot Pie and Jenna had insisted they wanted to go. Though, technically he was still leading their group, Gendry was the outvoted one now.  _Who had seen that coming?_  Well, of course, Jenna would side with Hot Pie, he had been her friend first and foremost and she most likely knew Gendry and Arya had only reluctantly accepted her to their group. In fact, Gendry was just beginning to see her as one of them; and a not so small part of that had to do with his guilt conscience about what happened the night Arya had left.

He had been so mad at Hot Pie, barely able to restrain himself from punching his friend. He had only realised what he had all said, when Hot Pie’s fist had collided with his jaw. Jenna had gasped in shock and he and Hot Pie had been staring at each other wide-eyed. The girl had regained her poise first and had placed a hand on his forearm to make him let go off Hot Pie’s collar. He had stepped back ashamed then, apologising to both of them and retreating to the other end of the clearing to calm down. His _fucking fury_  had gotten the better of him again, causing him to feel even more lost and alone the following days; Barra had been the only one he really talked to, smiled and laughed with then. As soon as she had fallen asleep he had transformed into a sullen mute, only talking when absolutely necessary.

So it had meant a true relief to hear he actually hadn’t screwed up Hot Pie’s and Jenna’s relationship in his irrational state – but rather the contrary. He and Hot Pie had been bathing at a stream about half a fortnight later, when his friend had enquired about his jaw. “It’s fine. Don’t worry!” “I don’t. You deserved it, you were an arse!” Hot Pie had retorted amused. “Yeah, and I’m sorry for that.” he had flushed again, all but proud of himself. “Don’t be!” Hot Pie had replied smilingly, “Well, for calling me ‘a fucking idiot’ and claiming I’d blurt out Arya’s secret just to impress Jenna, you should be! But not for calling her my girlfriend.” Gendry had looked at him in surprise, “Wait…, are you saying-” “Yep, exactly that!” Hot Pie had grinned, causing Gendry to smile at him for the first time since their fight, and clapping his friend’s shoulder, congratulating.

However, if Hot Pie hadn’t told him, it probably would have taken him quite a while to notice their relationship had changed. They obviously tried to be considerate of him, even after Gendry’s mood had brightened enough for them to notice. They probably feared he couldn’t bear to see them happy while he was miserable. But  _they were wrong_. He had tried to tell Hot Pie he wouldn’t mind, but the lad had only patted his back, giving him this compassionate look again.  _He didn’t!_  He was used to see other people happy while he was not. But most of all, Hot Pie and Jenna didn’t remind him of what he had lost. Not really. They were so… _different_ ,  _way too calm and in chime!_  He didn’t want what they had.  _He wanted bickering and ranting, ever annoying pain in the ass_  – for him and Barra just to get their favourite person back!

But  _she was gone_.  _For good now_. He had known that the day he had woken up to find Hot Pie wrapping up two roasted ducks. On his enquiry where they had come from, the lad had only answered, “What do you think?” busy with his task. When Nymeria hadn’t shown up that night, nor the following, he had known. Hundreds of wolves lurking around hadn’t exactly gone unnoticed; they had seen their tracks in the woods and had heard their howling at night, even when they mostly hadn’t seen any, apart from Nymeria. The pack had left and so had she.  _She had no reason to stay_ , he had been certain.  _It was for the best_ , he had told himself, watching Barra sleep. Luckily, the little one was used to stay the nights with him and would mostly only yearn for Arya during the day, when it was easier to distract her from her sorrow. And Gendry tried to compensate the gap she had left as good as he could; asking Barra jestingly to not make him regret spoiling her now more than he should. But in truth, he wondered how many moon’s turns it would take her to stop asking for Arya; to stop missing her.  _Would she manage before he could? Hopefully_ ,  _for her sake_.

A fortnight after the wolves had left, they had spotted ruins of a burned farm at the Trident’s southern shore. Finding carrots and cabbages in the half overgrown garden, they had decided to stop there for a break. He had known they were taking a risk doing so, but with Arya and the wolves gone, no longer providing them with game, they couldn’t let a chance like that slip. Stupidly, he had suggested to go hunting, while his friends had watched Barra during her midday nap and harvested the crops; so they wouldn’t need to eat their freshly refilled supplies, he had said.  _Bloody idiot!_

He wasn’t long gone, but already deep in the woods, when he heard the singing.  _Seven hells!_  He didn’t wait to hear where it came from.  _Barra!_  was the only thought he had and he ran. Back to the burned down farm, as fast as he could. Though, he hadn’t been fast enough, he realised, hearing bellowing laughter even before he reached the treeline. “Even your dog knows you stand no chance!” a man’s voice shouted, when he snuck closer. “Come one, lad, be reasonable, lay down your sword!” another voice added.  _Fuck_. “I don’t think so!” Hot Pie retorted, but the shrill tone in his voice gave his fear away. “It’s no use anyway, in case you haven’t noticed I’m holding a bow here, boy.” a third voice mocked.  _Fuck_. “That’s good for you, but what makes you think you’re the only archer here?” Hot Pie countered boldly, surprising Gendry.  _So, it’s just one archer_. “Probably your frightful trembling!” the first voice teased. “You’ll find out soon enough, we’re not bluffing.” Jenna retorted, giving him time to sneak closer.  _Good girl_. But the men only laughed.

When he finally reached the treeline, he saw Hot Pie in front of the cottage wall, shielding Jenna with Barra in her arms, Bobby at his side, snarling, saliva dropping from his jaw.  _Where is Storm?_  But Gendry had no time to wonder about that. There were three ragged looking men standing on the river road, facing his friends.  _Robbers_. One tall and broad with a bushy beard, wearing armour and a helmet,  _a soldier_ , but his yellow hooded cloak stood out the most; his hand rested threateningly on his longsword’s hilt. Another, at least ten years older, thinning hair, smaller and no armour, but a belt full of throwing knives, carrying a woodharp,  _the singer_. The third one, leaner and younger than the others, maybe a few years older than Gendry,  _the archer_ , holding a bow, six arrows standing in the ground before him, waiting to be notched.  _Fuck_.  _They were in trouble!_

“Come on, lad, you don’t want to do this!” the singer called, while the soldier stepped forth and so did Bobby, positioning himself in front of Hot Pie now, who flexed his fingers around his sword’s hilt. Gendry had resumed teaching his friend sword fighting, but against this pisscloak here, he wouldn't stand a chance, Gendry wasn’t even sure he could; all about the man said battle-hardened.  _Coward!_  Intent to protect his little family, Gendry notched an arrow, but he didn’t even get to aim at their archer. Quicker than he thought possible, the man had notched and loosened an arrow, hitting his right shoulder; it pierced through the chainmail as if it weren’t there. Bow and arrow dropped from his grip and Gendry sank to his knees, a pang like he had never felt before spread through his body. The archer shouted into his direction, “You didn’t really think I wouldn’t see y…  _Fuuuuck!_ ” The breath-taking pain had kept Gendry distracted until the he heard the pained outburst. Looking up, he saw an arrow sticking in the archer’s shoulder, too.  _What the…_

“Pity, you didn’t see me,  _arsehole!_ ” Gendry heard  _her_  shouting.  _This can't be…_  His eyes went wide as she emerged from the opposite treeline; Storm right behind, running towards him at full speed. Her next arrow pointing at the soldier now, Arya hissed, “And you, Pisscloak,” making Gendry chuckle and regret it immediately, “Step away from my dog!” she yelled, giving the glaring man a wide berth while she moved towards Gendry. Clenching his jaw in pain, he got up and drew his sword with his left hand, before he stepped forth from the woods himself. “Well, children, I think, this seems to be a little misunderstanding here. We mean you no har-” the singer began. “No harm?  _You shot him!_ ” Arya fumed, nodding towards Gendry. “He was about to shoot us!” the archer retorted. “Should think about that before you go around, threatening  _children!_ ” Gendry hissed, walking towards Arya with Storm at his heels. “True.” the singer admitted. “But thing is, we’ve asked your friends nicely-” “ _Liar!_  You threatened to loosen arrows over the wall!” Hot Pie retorted.

“How bad is it?” Arya whispered, quickly glancing at his shoulder when he finally stood beside her. “Hurts like shit.” he growled, “But probably just muscle tissue…” “Listen, lassie-” the singer tried again, seeing Arya’s arrow pointing at himself, now that the soldier was far off enough. “Don’t call me  _that!_ ” she spat, “Listen,  _girl_ , your companion is hurt-” “I’m just  _fine! Thanks._ ” Gendry lied. “…and so is our archer here.” the singer went on, ignoring him. “They both need treatment.” he appeased. They didn’t interrupt him this time, wanting to know what they were up to. “There’s an inn, not far ahead, kept by some friends of ours.” “Good for you!” Arya snorted sarcastically. “We could get them both patched up there, and share some ale and bread instead of fighting one another.” the singer offered. “Fuck off!” Gendry refused, “Think, we'd follow you to your  _friends_ , so you can finally outnumber and rob us?” “Listen,  _boy_ , unlike you, apparently, I’ve been shot before.” the archer belittled him cockily, “Believe me, what’s awaiting us tonight ain’t gonna be pretty!”  _I know that, you fucker!_  Gendry thought, glaring at him.

“ _How far?_ ” Arya asked, making him turn his head abruptly, “You’re not actually considering it?” he whispered in disbelief, but she ignored him. “About two miles upstream … A league at most.” “ _No._  We’re not going anywhere with them. We don’t even know whose side they’re on.” Gendry announced for everyone to hear. “We’re king’s men,  _boy!_ ” the archer grinned. “ _Which king’s?_  There’s a king in every fucking corner of the realm now.” Arya retorted. “King Robert.” the soldier glared at them. “ _The old drunk?_ ” Gendry frowned puzzled, “Got news for you, he’s dead! Killed by a boar!” “Aye, and more’s the pity.” the singer said, “But we still serve our cause!” “Which is?” Arya enquired warily. “Protecting the smallfolk in the Riverlands.” “I’m smallfolk, well done protecting!” Gendry snorted dismissively. “Listen,  _lad, girl_ , we could’ve killed your friends  _and_  your dogs, long before the two of you’d arrived.” the singer said, “But we didn’t! Why’s that?” “And our young mate here, he’s not one to miss his target. He’s the best shot in the realm.” the soldier clapped the archer on his good shoulder. It was Arya who snorted at that. “Aye, your _boyfriend_  isn’t still standing by accident.” the archer claimed. “Same goes for you!” she spat, ignoring the boyfriend-tease.

“So, nobody wants to kill anyone here… well, that’s good news, I’d say.” the singer sounded cheerfully now, suggesting, “How about we start anew? I’m Tom of Sevenstreams, but Tom Sevenstrings is what they call me, or Tom o’ Sevens. This great lout with the brown teeth is Lem, short for Lemoncloak. It’s yellow, you see, and Lem’s a sour sort, and the young fellow here’s Anguy, or Archer as we like to call him, and the three of us would like to invite the five of you to join us at our friend Sharna’s inn.” Gendry glanced at his friends, realising they were about to accept. “Arya!” he objected, “You can’t seriously-” “You need treatment, and you need it now!” she hissed. Her piercing glare told him she had made up her mind, she would take the risk, dragging him there, if she needed to. So he only rolled his eyes in response. “Now,  _who are you?_ ” Lem demanded. “I’m Jenna.” Gendry rolled his eyes again. “And I’m Hot Pie.” and again. “Good for you. It’s not every day I meet a lad with such a tasty name.” Tom chuckled, clearly thinking Hot Pie was fooling him. “And what would your friends be called, Mutton Chop and Squab?” “Squab’s fine by me.” Arya replied, showing she still didn’t trust them at all. “And I’m the Bull.” Gendry finally growled, glaring at the three men. “And the little one?” Tom asked smilingly. “… Is none of your business!” Arya and Gendry stated together. “Fine.” “Now, the three of you will lead the way!” Arya announced. “Fine, as well.” Tom assured. “ _Fine_. You can start walking, we’ll catch up.” Gendry hissed and Tom bowed to him mockingly, “Don’t forget to bring that cabbages and carrots along.”

Gendry had thought about breaking off the shaft, but that might have caused more damage than good, so he hadn’t touched it and carefully climbed onto the ruins and from there onto horseback, while Hot Pie had retrieved his bow and Jenna had helped Arya wrapping the still sleeping Barra to her chest. “Let’s go, find that inn!” Hot Pie had called, as soon as Arya had returned on her mount. “Yeah, we better, before this one falls off the horse.” she had teased him, before pressing her heels into her steed’s flanks to follow Jenna and Hot Pie. Gendry had snorted at that, but he had smiled, following her.  _She wasn’t gone._

The three men had waited for them behind the next bend, but the four of them kept warily their distance, no matter Tom’s efforts to engage them in conversation, “That’s some nice mounts you’ve got there. How did you get them?” he interrogated. “They’re ours and that’s all you need to know.” Gendry growled, noticing Lem’s greedy look. “ _Sure_. Is he always so sullen, or only when shot?” Tom winked at Arya. “We prefer sullen over talkative.” she stated. “Then you should get along finely with our Lem here.”

“Do you know any songs then? I’d dearly love someone to sing with, that I would. Lem can’t carry a tune and our longbow lad only knows marcher ballads, every one of them a hundred verses long.” Tom tried again later. “We sing real songs in the marches.” Anguy said mildly. “Singing is stupid.” Arya huffed, “Singing makes noise. We heard you a long way off. We could’ve killed you.” “There are worse things than dying with a song on your lips.” Tom replied. “These are  _our_  woods, if there were Lions or Wolves hereabouts, we’d know.” Lem groused, making Gendry roll his eyes once more.

He made his horse fall back and Arya immediately halted hers, “Are you alright?” she glanced worried at his shoulder. “Yeah, fine. I just don’t want to listen to that bullshit any longer.” She smiled relieved and was about to move her horse closer to Hot Pie and Jenna again. “ _Wait!_ Ride with me, like old times … on the Kingsroad!” She nodded reluctantly, “Like old times.” Yet, he soon came to regret his suggestion, the rest of the way had been indeed like old times.  _Really old times_  … before she was talking, when she was still ignoring him; that old times. Leaving Gendry to choose, to either focus on her, or his painfully throbbing shoulder or again listening to the bullshit.  _Damn_.

So in the end, he was actually glad when the inn, a two story building at the Trident’s riverbank, came into sight. It even looked quite friendly, almost homey, with the whitewashed upper story and the slate roof and smoking chimney. It didn’t look at all like an outlaw lair, or as if Lannister or Bolton forces were lurking around.  _Looks can be deceptive_ , he told himself, unwilling to give up his wariness, and was glad when Arya announced they would leave the horses saddled up and guarded by their dogs, until she would say otherwise. 

The three outlaws had waited for them to emerge from the stables, before they entered the inn, “What took you so long to hop from that horse,  _boy?_ ” Anguy teased, “I could be dying here-” “I was hoping for it!” Gendry growled, “Still do!” Tom chuckled, “Let’s get those arrows out of you two, before you turn as sour as Lem.” His yellow-cloaked companion only grunted, and they walked through the door. Arya signalled them to stay behind and entered herself, a hand on Needle’s hilt, the other ready to grab one of her hidden daggers; and Barra still wrapped to her chest. Gendry hadn’t like it, but they needed to be able to ride off immediately if this was a trap.

However, so far it wasn’t. An instant later Arya returned, waving at them to come. “ _I did!_ ” they heard her announcing, when they stepped into the common room. The three men were seated a table at the back of the room. A man in a stained apron with a lumpy face and yellowish skin came up the cellar steps and a tall ugly woman with a knobby chin inspected Anguy’s shoulder, bursting into laughter then, “Uh, I see, our Archer couldn’t keep his hands to himself.  _What a_   _surprise!_ ” the innkeep snorted, not looking up from the wound, “Well done, girl! I like you already!” Arya looked puzzled, “ _No!_  He shot  _him!_ ” she nodded towards Gendry, now standing next to her. The woman cast a glance at them, and laughed again, turning back to the archer, “I like her, Anguy! Paying you back in your own coin…” The innkeep was fumbling around the wound now and Anguy hissed in pain, yet mocked, “Yeah, I should marry her…” Gendry clenched his fists at that, before hissing in pain himself. “What is it!?” Arya worried. “ _Nothing_.” he mumbled. “ _Dream on, Anguy!_ ” the woman snorted and Gendry silently agreed. “Husband, get the lads and their guests here some ale and boil me two kettles of water!” the woman yelled, coming towards them then, “And you, handsome, come here!” She grabbed his good arm and made him sit down on the bench next to them, “No need to be afraid, old Sharna knows what she’s doing!” the woman assured. He gave in reluctantly. When Sharna pressed her fingers at the wound, he winced, but was determined not to hiss like that  _bloody Marcher_. “That chainmail of yours is blocking the sight, but the bleeding tells me the wound’s not severe. You’re lucky Anguy’s a good shot!” the innkeep remarked.  _Lucky!? There was an arrow sticking out of his shoulder!_  Sharna turned to Arya then, sitting next to him.

“I’m not in the habit of serving ale to toddlers, and there’s no cows for milk and the river water tastes of war, with all the dead men drifting downstream. I’ll send the boy to a spring in the woods, but that’s gonna be another hour until he returns.” Sharna said, studying the still sleeping Barra. “We’ve refilled our wineskins the morning. She’ll survive an hour.” Gendry stated and the innkeep grinned, “She’s yours, isn’t she?” He only nodded.

“Alright then.” Sharna got louder again, “Both of you, upstairs!” she nodded at him and Anguy. “And you, Lem, as well, you need to hold them down.” “Can’t we do it here?” Gendry asked, unwilling to leave Arya and the others out of sight. “Certainly not, lad, people are eating and drinking here, you’re not bleeding all over my floor!” He swallowed and reluctantly got up, only to see Anguy wink at him, “Are you pissing yourself,  _boy?_ ” “What’s your goddamn problem?” Gendry snarled challenging, but Arya stepped in his way, “Leave it!” “It’s funny how she leads you around by the nose,  _Bull boy_.” her head whipped around, “I swear, if you don’t shut your damn mouth now, I’m going to finish what I’ve started!” “Aye, Anguy, shut it!” Sharna bellowed, “What I see, the lad’s more a man than you’ll ever be! At least he takes care of his bastard!” “ _She’s not a bastard!_ ” Arya and Gendry said reflexively, making the innkeep and the outlaws look at them doubtfully.  _Damn_. Denying it like that, in unison and both flushing afterwards, might not be most convincing way to do it. “Even better! But now let’s get you two squabblers upstairs!” Sharna shoved him forward, “Where the heck you think you’re going?” Gendry turned to see his friends following. “ _Where he goes, we go!_ ” Arya demanded, “That’s not up for discussion!” she stared the old innkeep down. “ _Fine_. But I won’t have anyone fainting, aside the two with the arrows.”  _Fainting? Gods, please, no!_

But it got worse, Sharna led them to a room with three beds, “So, who’s first?” “ _He!_ ” Arya demanded, nodding at Gendry.  _Seriously?_  “ _Na…_  The  _old man_  can go first! He was so afraid of dying outside the inn. Can’t let that happen on my watch, can I?” Gendry snorted, unwilling to let that  _arrogant fucker_  watch him faint. “You stupid bull-headed idiot!” Arya hissed, but he glared at her unyielding. “I know what you’re doing!” Anguy interrupted them, “You don’t want your girl think you weak … or is it me you fear?” the archer winked at him and lay down quickly on a bed, “Sharna, love, work your magic!” “Sure. As soon as you're done with your cute little pissing contest!” the innkeep teased. “Cute and little, indeed!” Lem snorted.  _Fucking outlaws!_

Gendry had lain down sullenly on the second bed, while Sharna carefully cut the fabrics of Anguy’s jerkin and tunic, to remove them. “You do realise, you’re hoodwinked by his teasing.” Arya whispered, when she sat down next to him. “ _I know_.” Gendry admitted sulky, “But that guy is yanking my chain!” “Not just yours!” she chuckled. He had yearned to see that again, and now that he could his responding smile soon faltered into a longing stare. She couldn’t hold his gaze and averted hers nervously, obviously relieved when Sharna addressed her, “Girl, what kind of arrowhead did you use?” “Bodkin.” “No barbs?” she shook her head. “Good. Within a moon’s turn you’ll be as good as new, Anguy!” Sharna said, “And what arrowhead I’m about to find in his shoulder?” “I guess we’ll have to find out!” Arya moved snaplike to Anguy, grabbing the shaft, “ _What arrowhead?!_ ” she snarled threatening. “Bodkin. No barbs. I swear!” the Marcher hissed in pain, reaching for the shaft to keep her from twisting or ripping it out. “Who’s led around by the nose now?” Gendry teased. 

“If you go on like that, I’ll just rip those arrows out and be done with it!” Sharna scolded and shoved a wooden stick into Anguy’s mouth, for him to bite on, and threw another into Gendry’s direction. Arya returned to sit on his bedside and Hot Pie and Jenna joined her there. When the innkeep and Lem were distracted by Anguy’s pained grunting, Arya whispered, “We're leaving as soon as you’re well enough.” she squeezed his hand, yet, didn't meet his gaze.

Sharna had soon removed the arrow from Anguy’s shoulder, rinsed the wound and stitched it together, making the archer sit up, she wrapped some bandage around his shoulder and his chest; before she turned to Gendry, “Out of the way now, children.” she demanded and Lem followed her to his bed. The innkeep cut through his leather jerkin and removed it, instructing Lem to clip the arrow’s shaft with a tong, while holding it as firmly in place as possible. When the soldier was done, Sharna made Gendry sit up and helped him remove the chainmail, before she cut through the padded fabric and his shirt underneath, “And he gets even more handsome!” The woman chuckled, winking, “I’m only jesting, lad!” she said, seeing Gendry turn beet-red. He cast an embarrassed glance at Arya, but she had turned her back to him, playing with Barra’s hands, it seemed.

Sharna handed him the wood to bite on and widened the entrance wound with her knife.  _Fuuuuuck_. Gendry barely managed to suppress the cry of pain, and suddenly fainting didn’t sound so bad. But he didn’t. Not even when she slid her finger into his flesh alongside the shaft, to check if a vessel was bleeding or a bone punctured. Gendry squinnied his eyes shut, tears were spilling and he was grunting and panting heavily, but he didn’t faint. “ _Don’t!_ ” he heard Sharna warning and opened his eyes, “You don’t want him break your fingers!” she scolded Arya, who was about to hold his hand; when their gazes locked, the woman used the opportunity and pulled the arrow out. _Fuuuuuuuck_. “There, you go!” the innkeep announced then and dismissed Lem, “Tell Husband to ready the stew!” Like before with Anguy the woman rinsed the wound and stitched him up.

“Daddy?” Barra mewled sleepy, wiping at her eyes. “I’m here.” Gendry called. Realising she wasn’t strapped to his chest, she looked up and her eyes went wide in surprise, “Mummy!” “Yes, I’m here.” Arya cast Gendry a nervous glance, before she kissed Barra’s cheek and removed some strands from her face. The little one stared at her, barely blinking, as if she were afraid Arya would be gone if she did. “So, the little dormouse finally decided to join us! Just in time for the stew, huh?” Sharna cast them a side-glance, while she wrapped the bandage around Gendry.

“You did well! Didn’t faint!  _I’m impressed!_ ” Anguy stated, grinning down at him. “What're you doing out of bed!?” Sharna demanded, “I don’t wanna see you on your feet before the morrow! Neither of you!” “But-” Gendry said, puzzled. “No ‘buts’! It’s bed rest for the both of you!” the woman declared, “I won’t have you lads wandering around in a fever!”  _Fuck_. Gendry huffed. “Disagreeing, handsome?” Sharna shot him a warning glance, “No? Good.” She got off the bed and was about to leave the room. “ _Wait!_ ” Anguy protested, “You make me share the room with  _them?_ ” “ _Aye!_  The other rooms are for our paying guests.” Sharna scoffed, “So,  _unless_  you’ve got me some coin…” “ _What guests?_ It’s war!” Anguy countered, “We’re your only guests!” “I’m  _not_  wasting another clean room on you lot!” Sharna bellowed, “No, offence. But I know these guys!” she looked at them then.

“ _I need privacy!_ ” Anguy sounded pathetic and the innkeep raised an amused eyebrow, “That’s what the bed curtains are for!” Gendry would have burst into laughter, if he hadn’t felt like protesting himself. “What if I’ve got a lady friend visiting tonight?” “Are you already feverish?” Sharna retorted, “I’m running a respectable house! No lady visits!” “Then why are them two still here?” he pointed at Arya and Jenna, raising a questioning brow. “ _Them two_  share the spare bed with the little one, closing the curtains behind themselves, and the lad takes the floor, just like Lem and Tom!” Sharna proclaimed and looked at them. Hot Pie and Jenna nodded speechless and Arya and Gendry exchanged a glance to see what the respective other was thinking. Sharna didn’t wait to hear further objections.  _Damn_. “Now I really regret I only aimed for your shoulder,  _lad_.” Anguy snorted sulky, when the innkeep was gone. “Yeah, same here!” Arya retorted, probably fearing Gendry would go for the next round; but for once, he agreed with the guy.

Jenna had helped unwrapping Barra from Arya’s chest and put her on the bed with Gendry. But when Arya was about to see to the dogs and horses, the little one was crying murder.  _Damn_. All assurance from both Arya and Gendry, that she would come back, didn’t shut her up. Hot Pie and Jenna had offered they could see to the animals, but Arya wouldn’t have it.  _She didn’t want to be alone with him!_  Least with Anguy there, already bored to death and curiously watching every move of them. So in the end only the girls left, including Barra, since even Hot Pie and Jenna seemed to think, they couldn’t risk leaving him and the Marcher alone in the same room. Gendry saw his suspicion confirmed, when Anguy had instructed Hot Pie to get them a pint of ale, instead of sitting useless on his hands. His friend had cast them both a worried glance, before he left, and returned quicker than they had expected. “How about a toast?” Anguy proposed, raising his pint to cheer into their direction, “To… misery loves company!”  _Unbelievable._

Before the night, Hot Pie had been downstairs several times to get them their refills; and the serving boy had come to bring them their stew. At some point, Gendry had wondered where the girls had got to.  _Their girls. His girls in particular!_  Hot Pie had claimed they would have had their stew in the common room, and had played outside with Barra and would have also bathed her. Apart from that, he only remembered thinking Anguy’s company wouldn’t be so bad after all … though, by then he must have been already deep in the cups, close to falling asleep.

When he woke up a few hours later, he felt chilly and his head was almost the same throbbing mess as his shoulder.  _Something was wrong… where was Barra? Arya?_   _Hot Pie? Jenna?_   _Wait, why was he in a bed? And why was he only wearing undergarment?_ Then he remembered. He got up, almost tripping over Hot Pie, if he hadn’t heard him snoring.  _Since when was he snoring so loud?_  It was killing his head.  _No, wait! That wasn’t just Hot Pie!_  Someone else was the one snoring so loud.  _Fucker_. He went to the bed that had been empty before. The curtains were closed and he couldn’t find where to open them, so he scrunched them up angrily to reveal who was sleeping in that bed.  _It was them_. Barra, Arya and Jenna, all three sleeping fully dressed and  _Needle within her reach_.  _Thank the gods_.

He was just about to let go of the curtain when Arya turned around, “What're you doing?” she demanded sleepy. “ _Nothing!_  I just didn’t know where you were… is all.” Within an instant she was up on her knees, placing a hand on his forehead, before she shook Jenna behind her, “Can you take Barra? He’s feverish.” The girl nodded, pulling the toddler into her arms. “There, my dagger, keep it under your pillow.” Arya instructed, before she got out of bed. She grabbed her blanket and Needle in one hand and Gendry’s forearm in the other, dragging him back to his bed. “Get in!” she ordered, and shook Hot Pie awake. That took longer than usual, and his disorientated state suggested he was as drunk as Gendry, “ _I wasn’t sleeping!_   _I’m awake!_ ” he grabbed his sword. “No need for that! He's got a fever. We need to keep him warm!” Without another word Hot Pie crawled into bed next to Gendry.  _Too close. He wasn’t that feverish!_

But before he could object, Arya climbed over of them, carefully moving Gendry’s bad arm to rest on his hip, before she covered them both with their blankets. She removed her leather jerkin and snuggled her back to his chest.  _Not close enough._  Though, he wasn’t that feverish to forget, _she shouldn’t be anywhere close to him_. “Arya, this’s a bad idea!” he whispered reluctantly, “You shouldn’t-” “This is _not_ the time to discuss propriety!” she whispered, “You’re sick, we need to make your fever break. So, unless you’re eager to be stuck here for another night,” she hissed, “you shut up and let us keep you warm, you stupid bull.” The little protest he had managed to come up with faltered at that, at least … _no, not at least, stupidly_ his wound kept him from holding her that night. He closed his eyes and took in her scent, letting it lull him to sleep. He had missed it. _Her_.

The next thing he knew was how a fully dressed Hot Pie stormed into the room, shouting, “ _Riders!_ ” and disappeared down the stairs again.  _Fuck!_  Gendry bolted up and grabbed his sword, however, he was barely down the stairs, when Arya shouted, “Get dressed, you idiot! Hot Pie, help him!”  _Dress into what?_  He wanted to counter, remembering Sharna cutting all but his chainmail and breeches. But Hot Pie already moved up the stairs, motioning him to do as he was told.  _She really was leading him around by the nose sometimes_. But mostly she was right.  _Like last night_ , Gendry thought, when he entered the room again, seeing the Marcher still covered in sweat, trying to dress himself alone, “I see you’re quite well. I wonder  _what_   _possibly_  could have made your fever break so quick.” Gendry just ignored his teasing allusion.

Hot Pie gave him his breeches and helped him into one of his spare shirts. When he handed him the padded sub-fabric for the chainmail, Gendry looked up surprised, “Who washed and mended it?” “Sharna and the girls.” “Arya?” he asked in disbelief, “I doubt this is her work!” “No, Jenna’s and Sharna’s!” Hot Pie laughed. “But she helped washing. Sharna thought she was ducking out … until she saw her crooked stitches!” Gendry chuckled, while Hot Pie tried to help him into the padding, but it was no use. He couldn’t get his right arm into the stiff fabric. So Gendry asked his friend to just grab the rest of his clothes and followed him downstairs.

When they emerged from the inn, they had hoped to see the girls waiting on horseback. But only Jenna was; staring puzzled at an approaching group of more ragged men. And Arya seemed to be charging at them, with Barra wrapped to her chest. “Arry,  _no!_ ” Gendry pushed Hot Pie aside and ran after her. “Underfoot?” a bearded man with tangled brown hair stepped forth, and Arya called, “ _Harwin!_ ” That made Gendry stop in his track.  _She knew him?_  “Gods be good!” The man went to one knee, “Arya Underfoot!”  _And he knew her!_  her arms flung around the man’s shoulders into a hug, making the men behind look as dumbfounded as Gendry. “You know her?” Tom walked past him and Lem followed behind, bellowing accusingly, “That wench shot Anguy!” “Did you, my lady?” Harwin asked, yet, without any sign of surprise or anger when she shrugged. “It’s nothing, just a flesh wound!” Anguy shouted, stepping from the inn. “ _My Lady?_ Who’s she supposed to be?” Lem snorted. “The Hand’s daughter!” Harwin got up, “She’s Arya Stark of Winterfell.” he announced for all his companions to hear.

 _Great_ , Gendry thought, and Arya’s drooped head suggested she was as happy as him about this public divulging of her identity. “You’re in trouble!” Anguy chirped, now standing next to him, smirking. “Your grace.” Tom said, going down to one knee as well, and one by one the other men followed, even bigmouth Archer beside him. Until only him and Hot Pie were standing. “Get on your knees, you fool!” Lem bellowed at him. “ _Don’t you dare!_ ” Arya spun around, shouting, “Get up! All of you! And if you care for your lives, you never address me as that again! Yes, I’m Arya Stark of Winterfell. But I’m no lady and certainly no fucking princess! Get up!” The men looked at her bewildered and then at each other. “ _Get up!_ ” she ordered, fuming. “As m’lady commands!” Gendry bowed teasingly, making her glare at him. Though, when he grabbed Anguy by the arm, pulling him to his feet, her glare softened into a smile. “She gave you an order.” Gendry smirked at the Marcher. “I see why you like her…” Anguy whispered, “But you’re in trouble.  _Big time!_ ” he nodded at Barra clutching to Arya’s chest.

As if Lem had heard it, he was getting up and charged at him. “Leave him!” Arya snarled, but Lem already had Gendry by the collar, making him hiss in pain due to the sudden yank at his shirt. “I said, leave him!” Arya growled, now next to them, Needle pointing at Lem’s throat. But the lout ignored her, “You’re a dead man,  _Bull boy!_ ” “You’re the dead man!” Hot Pie stood across from Arya, mirroring her stance and pointing his blade at Lem, too. “ _Lads_ , this bastard here is fucking the princess!” “ _I’m not._ ” “ _He’s not!_ ” Arya and Hot Pie added together. Harwin was looking at her questioning. “ _He’s not!_ We’re not doing  _that!_ ” she hissed, blushing embarrassed, while the other men closed in at them. “Who are you kidding, he’s got you with child,  _princess?_ ” Lem snorted, nodding at Barra.

“I-SAID-I-AM-NO-FUCKING-PRINCESS!” Arya snarled, pressing Needle closer to his skin, drawing blood now, “Just like I said, the little one is not your fucking business!” “You mean the toddler, Lem?” Harwin pointed at Barra, finally understanding, “That’s not hers!” “Yes, she is!” Lem looked dumbfounded, “I heard her call her ‘mummy’!” “And that proves what?!” Gendry growled, glaring at him. “ _Brothers_ , I assure you, Lady Arya isn’t this child’s mother!” Harwin announced, seeing the doubtful looks on the other men’s faces, “ _She can’t be!_ ” “How would you know?” Lem questioned, not letting go of Gendry’s collar. “Look at the child! How old is she? A year or two?” “One and a half.” Gendry corrected, frowning. “One, one and a half or two, it doesn’t matter!” Harwin stated, “Lady Arya hadn’t even flowered when I left King’s Landing!”

“ _Seven hells!?_  That’s private business! Hers… not yours!” Gendry was furious and wrenched himself free from Lem’s grip, ripping his shirt, yet, ignoring the pain it caused his shoulder. He shoved the man, “Nothing to discuss in public and least in front of you ragged lot here!” “You’re wrong, lad!” Harwin countered calm, “It's no private business. She's a lady, and our king intended to marry her to his son, the crown prince. So the whole court would have known such a thing…” “But Joffrey wasn’t his son!” Hot Pie spat angrily, “ _He is!_ ” he nodded at him, dumbfounding the men, including Gendry. “ _Oh…_  I shouldn’t have said that, should I?” Hot Pie realised too late. “Well, this is getting better and better!” Anguy snorted with laughter, “Tom, is this really happening or is it just a fever dream of mine? Pity, if it were the latter!”

Gendry regained his poise at that and grabbed Arya, “Hot Pie,  _we’re leaving!_ ” “No, you’re not.” the men stepped into their way, “ _She’s not._ ” they glared at him.  _Fuck_.  _He knew it!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really bad when it comes to the anatomy in the area around the shoulder/upper chest. I know there are some major vessels, delicate bones and nerves, lungs and all, but I don't know their exact location. So please don't ask me where exactly the arrows hit Gendry and Anguy without causing much damage. It is somewhere around the upper arm/shoulder/upper chest. Why that? Well, I thought, hitting them there, while they both hold an arrow ready to loose, would take the tension from the bow, disarming them without their notched arrow going loose (far) and accidentally killing someone.
> 
> Why did I embarrass Arya again like that? 
> 
> 1\. It’s true, her flowering would have been a big deal (just think of the show, when Joffrey threatens Sansa to get her pregnant as soon as she flowers) and servants talk, more than their masters know, especially when drunk or in bed; and also the Red Keep is full of spies. Cersei certainly would have had someone watching this, since she didn’t want that marriage to happen, due to her hatred for Lyanna/the Starks in general. And Varys and Littlefinger don’t need a reason, they spy on everyone at court.  
> 2\. Arya had thought everyone dead, who had been in King’s Landing with her. Now we have at least three men who had been at court in King’s Landing long enough to testify, that Arya can’t be Barra’s mother. That means there is a tiny bit of hope for Arya and Gendry. 
> 
> Gendry vs. Anguy 
> 
> Don’t worry, there won’t be a love triangle with Arya and Gendry and Anguy or any other character (like Ned Dayne). At least no real love triangle. In this story there will be jealousy, especially now that they’re with the Brotherhood, but Arya knows who she wants and so does Gendry.  
> It’s just, Anguy has grown up close to Dorne, and you know how the Dornish are when it comes to sexuality/relationships, that surely influenced Anguy; he is kind of a womaniser. So, even though he is just a few years older than Gendry, he is way ahead of him experience-wise, even more so since Gendry is trying to take the monogamous road, of which Anguy has either never heard of or is going a long way around on purpose.  
> And jealous Gendry is hilarious, so of course Anguy enjoys teasing him for fun. And somehow it’s also just normal rivalry among (young) men. They’ve to find out who’s the alpha of their age group and right now that leaves just Gendry and Anguy, Hot Pie is not the competitive alpha-male type (and I mean that character-wise, not physically) and Ned hasn’t shown up, yet.  
> Also, I’m sure a man like Anguy would like Arya. In canon (book and show) she is just too young at this point. But in my story she is fifteen now and he is about 20-25, so he did notice her. I mean how couldn't he? Everyone says she looks like Lyanna, who is said to have been a beauty. And at the time in this chapter, she and Jenna are the only girls around. So Arya can hardly go unnoticed by a bunch of men. Also her wild and wilful nature is rare to find north of Dorne/south of the Wall, so that Anguy probably finds attracting as well and her skills with a bow surely impressed him. Yet, he’ll move on at some point. He’s too proud/nonchalant to run after a girl he has no chance with.  
> P.S. When I think of Anguy, I rather think of the show than the books. I think show-Anguy is more handsome, more cocky and more of a challenge/rival for Gendry than book-Anguy.


	23. This Actually Might Be a Good Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa, Bran and Rickon and their small bunch of companions are still on the run, until they finally come across friendly faces, who offer them not only aid and shelter, but can also provide some information about what happened at Winterfell after they had fled. Unfortunately, what Sansa gets to hear isn't exactly easing her bad conscience, but rather makes things worse for her, she is about to drown in remorse and doubts, and close to developing trust issues.

They probably wouldn’t have survived their hasty escape, if it hadn’t been for their wolves. It was them who led their way through the pitch dark of the night, who kept them on the road, away from slippery steeps and treacherous cliffs and who kept them warm when their bodies finally denied them to take another step. Still so close to Winterfell they wouldn’t dare to light any fire that first night and the night that followed; not even, when they crossed a small stream to misdirect their pursuers the following day. So even Shaggydog offered his warmth to the humans who needed it, though he did it begrudgingly. As if he wanted them to know, to better not get used to him acting as if he had a soft spot. All his life the black wolf had been busy to prove what a frightful creature he was; be it by scaring someone as huge as Hodor off or by teaching boasting young guards a lesson or two. And in doing so he clearly mirrored Rickon’s need to prove that he wasn’t the weakling baby of the Stark litter.

Those few days staying out in the wild with only cloaks to keep themselves warm, had truly showed them all they were not as strong as they had thought. It gave them an inkling of what winter would feel like and how right Old Nan had been by calling them summer children. They were of the North, Starks even and, yet, only now they began to understand what the North really was like, and it was only the end of summer. Sansa felt the cold creeping into her bones as soon as she lay down, only able to hold it at bay by snuggling up to Lady like pup. And just days ago she had believed herself to be a true Northern she-wolf. How wrong she had been. If it weren’t for Bran and Rickon and the few companions who had escaped with them, Sansa would have long given in to cry into Lady’s furs like a baby. That was what she felt like at night, nestled into her wolf. _Not even a pup_. Just a bare helpless baby, crying for her mother. She couldn’t say if she ever had been in such desperate need of her mother’s warm embrace. Why couldn’t this all be just a nightmare, a nightmare she could wake up from and find her mother at her bedside, soothingly stroking her back?

But Sansa wasn’t dreaming. It was really happening. She knew that, when she would wake from actual nightmares. Nightmares of what happened at Winterfell, after they had fled … how Maester Luwin, Rodrik and Mikken died in agony, because she had refused to tell them their fates and left them there to die, like the coward she was. Nightmares of Theon catching up to them, telling her it all would have been just a misunderstanding, that he actually brought the Ironborn to protect them, that they could return to Winterfell and when they did, he would slit Bran’s and Rickon’s throat in front of her, to punish her for their escape attempt. Nightmares of Arya finally returning home, unknowing of Theon’s betrayal, only to become his hostage in in their stead. It was Lady’s soft nudges who would wake her then, preventing the others from noticing her weakness.

She had to be strong, well, pretend to be. To look the leader her brothers needed her to be and so she did. Yet, she was constantly fearing the others could see right through the pretence. If the two guards, the last remaining forces they had, would see how weak and vulnerable she really was, what would they do? Would they only abandon them? Or betray them like Theon? In her mind Sansa fought with herself, constantly. At night with her nightmares and her remorse about having abandoned their people, without even trying to fight their attackers. And during the days she fought her own insecurity and doubts; to not let anyone see she actually had no idea what she was doing. Robb had entrusted her with the safekeeping of their home and his people and she had failed miserably. She could not fail him again, she had to keep at least their baby brothers safe. So she kept going, knowing this was what father and Robb expected of her as elder sibling. And to her own disbelief Sansa had managed to keep up the charade, or maybe Syrio, Osha, Meera and Bran only let her believe they wouldn’t see her struggling. So when they finally came across a group of mountain’s clansmen, Sansa felt relief wash over her as if the weight of their entire world had been lifted of her shoulders.

It was a group of ten riders they had met almost a sennight after their escape, blazoning the Flint’s banner. _Friends, not foes_. And one of them had even recognised them, Artos Flint, second son of the clan chief,  had been at Winterfell during old king Robert’s fateful visit. The man’s eyes had gone wide, when the three siblings and their wolves had emerged from the treeline after the guards had signalled them to come out to meet the riders, “M’lady, m’lords?!” he had stammered, staring at them, before he remembered his manners and bowed, “I mean, your graces.”

The riders turned out to be a scouting party sent by their chief, after a raven saying Winterfell would be under attack, had arrived. When no raven followed to specify the attack or the identity of the attackers, the Flint assumed the worst and sent them south. At first the riders wouldn’t believe them that their famous ancestral home could fall to savage Ironborn, but hearing Theon Greyjoy had betrayed them was all the explanation they needed to be convinced.

‘Bloody turncloak’, ‘Spineless traitor’ some of them growled, and those were the kinder names the clansmen had for the man Sansa had thought of as family. Who had grown up with them as if he were one of them. _Father took him away from his home, and now he took ours in return_ , Sansa thought bitterly. It hurt to realise their father hadn’t been without fail. He had been wrong to raise them to look at Theon like a brother. He had been their captive, no matter how kind they had treated him, and unlike her and her siblings, Theon Greyjoy obviously never forgot that fact. He clearly never saw them as family, or how else could he betray them like that? He saw a chance to get back at his captors and he took it. Sansa couldn’t tell what hurt more, that Theon fooled her like that or his betrayal.

Artos Flint’s men offered them their protection and to escort them to their chief’s holdfast, assuring, they would be safe there and Sansa accepted the offer gratefully. Yet, she was glad to see two of the party were instructed to continue their ride south, to find out what was going on at Winterfell and both Sansa and Bran sought them out, asking them to try to find out how the people are being treated and if anyone had been killed. Both siblings still hoped that not all of Jojen’s dream would come true.

The remaining eight clansmen offered them their horses, “We’re hill clansmen, aye, but we’re not as savage as our reputation might say, your graces. We do know our courtesies, as good as any Northerner, rest assured.” Artos insisted. “No horse for me, I’ve got my own mount.” Rickon blurted out before anyone else could respond and climbed onto Shaggydog, ready to ride off. “You have to forgive our baby brother, he and his wolf are the true savages here, constantly forget their manners.” Bran chuckled and Sansa added, “Unlike Rickon, we will gladly accept your kind offer, but one horse will be enough for me and my brother, we can share a steed.”  “So can I and Jojen.” Meera announced and also Syrio and Osha chose to do so, to not steal all the clansmen’s horses. So in the end, only the two guards and Hodor refused to mount a steed. The guards probably thought honour forbid it and the latter clearly felt safer with his own feet on the ground; he had been shaking his head and stomping his feet on the ground, mumbling, “Hodor, Hodor, Hodor.” until Bran assured, “It’s alright, Hodor, you don’t have to ride, if you don’t want to.” causing Hodor to grin immediately, replying with a content, “Hodor.”

One morning almost a fortnight later, one of the clansman rode ahead, causing the Flint, chief Torghen, and his eldest son and heir Donnel to greet them upon their arrival, offering their home as their shelter as long as they would need it. Since her father had always spoken very highly of the mountain clans, praising their honesty and loyalty and knowing of the blood ties that connected the Starks with the Flints of the mountains through their great-grandmother Arya Flint, Sansa approached the chief, addressing him as ‘Lord Flint’ as her father had done and curtsied, before she thanked him for his generous hospitality and Bran made sure Rickon followed her lead and bowed before their hosts alongside him and Jojen and Meera.

Then Donnel ordered servants to show Osha, Syrio and Hodor and the two guards to their quarters and offered to show the Starks and Reeds to their chambers himself. But when Sansa’s room turned out to be Donnel’s own chamber and Bran’s and Rickon’s was Artos’, Sansa felt embarrassed and told the man, they couldn’t accept such generosity, if it meant for their hosts to give up their own chambers, assuring, that she could share a room with Meera and Bran and Rickon could stay in Jojen’s chamber. However, at first Donnel Flint had seemed offended by her refusal, arguing they could not let princes and princesses sleep in lesser chambers than their own. But then Bran appeased, claiming that after what happened at Winterfell their wolves might want to sleep in the same rooms, and he wouldn’t want them to ruin such exquisite chambers. On that, Donnel gave in and even seemed a bit relieved that his furniture would not fall prey to bored wolves and called maids to ready some hot water so their guests could bath.

Sansa suggested to Meera to bath first, so she could consult with Donnel and the Flint about their situation and the man gladly led her to his lord father’s solar. Where he then told her that after they had sent the scouting party, they had received another raven, from Cerwyn, saying it would be Ironborn that had taken Winterfell, but the Cerwyns couldn’t provide any information about how Ironborn raiders could have managed to take over such a huge and well defended castle in such a short time or what would have happened to the Starks there. And then two days ago another raven would have arrived from Cerwyn, saying, according to winter town people, Theon Greyjoy would have killed all three Stark siblings, and that their burned corpses would be hanging from the South Gate.

Sansa’s head was spinning upon hearing this. _Could Theon really do this? Kill a girl and two boys and burn their corpses? Could she have prevented it, if they had stayed at Winterfell? Or would he have killed and burned her and her brothers then instead?_ “Your grace, are you alright?” Donnel’s worried voice ripped her from her thoughts, “Oh, yes. I’m alright. Please, go on, my lords.” she was not alright. _How could she ever tell Bran and Rickon about this?_ “So when Halder came riding in this noon, claiming they would have found all three of you alive and well, with your wolves and the Reeds at your heels, we began to hope again. But we didn’t dare to send word to the king before we had seen you all ourselves.” Torghen explained. “Lord Flint, please tell me, you haven’t sent that raven to Robb, yet?” Sansa asked alarmed. “Oh, no, your grace. We thought, we would wait with that, in case you would want to send some personal words as well.” Donnel assured. _Thank the gods_ , Sansa thought, while the man went on, “You see, southern ravens aren’t exactly very common in the hills. We clansmen usually have nothing to converse with those folks beyond the Neck. So you were lucky it was our men who found you. I’m not sure the other clans have ravens to send south, they might need to send ravens to bigger houses first to get word to the king.” Donnel explained proudly. “And I never thought, I’d be glad one day that my sons bought those damn southern birds.” Torghen added.

Though, Donnel and the Flint generously offered to aid them in any way they could, telling her their shared blood ties would demand no less of them, Sansa hesitated, overthinking what she had in mind, before she finally spoke it out loud, “My lords, I think this actually might be a good thing, that my brothers and I are presumed dead.” _Surely not for those poor souls hanging from the gate_. Sansa tried to shut her guilty conscience up. If they were thought dead, no one would look for them, would hunt them or try to use them as a pawn against Robb. “We could hide in the open, and no one would see us.” she explained, but the two Flint men weren’t convinced, yet, “I’d think it a good idea if your looks weren’t such a giveaway. Especially yours, Lady Sansa, you look so much like your mother.” Donnel said. “Then it’s a good thing that looks can be changed.” she retorted determined, as her plan took form in her mind. But still the chief wasn’t convinced, “You’re young, your grace, you might not know that, yet, but grief can make a man do foolish things. Your brother, he needs his head clear and focussed to win this war, to keep himself and his men alive. He might not be able to do that if he mourns another loss.”

However, when Sansa told them she of course wouldn’t want to keep Robb and her lady mother in the dark about their survival, they finally seemed to really listen to her and take her serious. She instructed them to add questions about Winterfell and the fates of the three of them to their correspondences with other Northern houses for a while, and even send ravens to Winterfell. First, to ask Theon to release his Stark captives against a ransom and later to beg him to at least release the corpses, so they could get a proper burial. Sansa hoped this way no one would suspect the Flints would know more than the other Northmen. “I’ve to admit, Lady Sansa, you quite surprised me. Keep on like that and you might become a she-wolf of Winterfell like in the old days.” the Flint finally said, when she attempted to leave his solar to send her raven to Robb and Lady Catelyn to Riverrun.

They had stayed with the Flint clan for more than a moon’s turn, to make sure no search parties were looking for them anymore and to await the two scouts’ return. Sadly, they only had confirmed what they had already known deep down in their hearts. Their maester, Luwin, had been stabbed, for sending ravens to the surrounding holdfasts, warning them about the attack. Their mother’s septon had been drowned in a bucket, for calling the Ironborn’s Drowned God a false god. And their master-at-arms, Ser Rodrik, had been beheaded, as well as their blacksmith, good old Mikken, both for challenging Theon’s authority by publicly announcing their undying loyalty to House Stark. After that the rest of Winterfell’s people would have given up their resistance and would serve Theon and his Ironborn now; but only in order to survive, winter town people had assured the Flint scouts. And there would be hope, they had said, reporting Stark loyalists would gather troops to retake the stronghold and to drive the Ironborn back into the sea.

Hearing all this, Sansa felt more conflicted than ever and consulted Meera, Syrio and Osha, who all urged her to not give in to false hopes and reminded her, her first and foremost responsibility was to keep Bran and Rickon safe; and that would not be the case if she or all three of them would return to Winterfell before the holdfast was back in loyalists’ hands. They were reminding her, the castle might withstand a siege for over a year. _Indeed, she herself had made sure of that._ Sansa knew her advisors were right. But that didn’t prevent her from feeling, she would be abandoning their people a second time when she rode through the gate of the Flint’s holdfast; heading north, further away from Winterfell. The only difference was, this time she and her companions were actually prepared for the journey. Torghen and Donnel had provided them with the warmest furs and clothes, supplies and strong horses and even a cart, so they wouldn’t have to leave Hodor behind. And Artos insisted on a twenty men strong escort, led by himself to assure their safety. And so they rode north, disguised as a group of fur traders who had hired the clansmen escort after hearing of Ironborn raiders roaming the North.

It took them another moon’s turn before the Wall suddenly towered above the horizon. It clearly was one thing to read about the size of this giant rampart, constructed to protect the Seven Kingdoms from the Wildings and giants and monsters of old times beyond; seeing it now with their own eyes was something else entirely. On overcast days its top would hide in the clouds and when the sun finally came through again the Wall seemed to have grown another fifty or hundred feet.

Rickon was amazed the most, “Do you think Jon and uncle Benjen will allow us to go up there? I wonder what it feels like to touch the clouds.” their baby brother babbled, reminding them of the one secret they had kept from him for almost a year now. Jon had sent them a raven then, saying uncle Benjen had gone missing beyond the Wall, but had added, rangers sometimes would stay out there for several moon’s turns and that they shouldn’t give up hope, yet. Still, they hadn’t dared to tell Rickon, to not have him worry about another beloved family member. And so Sansa was grateful when Bran answered in her stead, “You know, with uncle Benjen being a ranger-” “First Ranger!” Rickon corrected stubbornly. “Yes, First Ranger he is, but that means he might not be at Castle Black when we arrive.” Bran continued, and upon seeing Rickon’s disappointed expression, he added, “But I’m sure the Night’s Watch would let us go up to the top anyway, maybe we could offer them to man one of their posts for a little while. Don’t you think?” Bran distracted Rickon successfully, appeasing Sansa’s remorse for a little while longer.

When Mole’s Town had finally come into view, they had decided to set up camp behind some hills south of the villages, so their camp was shielded against preying eyes from the village, while Artos and three of his men went to Castle Black to inform Jon discreetly of the arrival of his presumed dead siblings. It took them hours to return, hours that felt like days or years. _What took them so long for a ride of only half a league? Why would Jon keep them waiting? What if he had gone looking for uncle Benjen? Had he gone missing now himself?_ After all they hadn’t heard of him for several moon’s turns, even before the fall of Winterfell. Sansa and Bran were barely able to hide their growing tension from Rickon and tried to appease their little brother by telling him Jon would probably be busy with his duties serving the Lord Commander and they would have to wait until the Lord Commander would retreat for the night.

And indeed, when they finally heard riders approaching it was long after nightfall and Sansa didn’t dare to go outside, too afraid to see their men returning alone and empty-handed. Again it felt like hours, as she stared at the flap of the tent, waiting for it to be moved by whoever had returned from Castle Black. When it finally did and only Artos entered, Sansa’s heart sunk. _Could they be so unlucky? Were they cursed?_ She didn’t even hear what the clansman said, her head was already spinning. _If Jon were here he would have come_. So whatever Artos had to say, she already knew that. “Sansa!” Bran tried to get her attention, “Let’s go!” “Where to?” she heard herself asking absently. “To Jon!” Rickon blurted out. “He’s here?” Her little brother shook his head over her silly questions. “Yes, well, at Castle Black.” Bran answered. “Then why hasn’t he come?” “Because you said no one must know about us. Jon’s just doing what you asked, sister.” Bran said exited, “So, come on, let’s go!” leading her outside, where the others already waited.

Artos’ men readied their horses and broke camp. “Your graces, we can ride ahead, if you like, my men will follow with the cart and supplies.” “Yes, come on, hurry, Sansa!” Rickon was about to drag her to her horse. “No!” she pulled him back, reprimanding, “We’ve to arrive as one party. Remember, we’re fur traders. No real fur traders would leave their goods behind!” “But Jon-” “He’s not going anywhere now, he’ll be waiting for us until we’re there.” Sansa assured and Bran added, “And after all, Jon kept us waiting for hours, just look at how over-exited you became, Rickon. I’d say it’s just fair if we keep him waiting and getting nervous now as well!” at that Rickon’s disappointed expression turned into a grin, “You’re evil!” “Not half as much as you!” Bran ruffled the younger boy’s hair.

Still, the time it took the men to break camp only added to the tension the three siblings felt rising. _What will Jon say? Was he mad at them for letting him believe they were dead? Was it alright to come unannounced? Were they even welcome? Could Jon convince the Lord Commander to let them stay here? Even if he couldn’t tell him who they really were? And most of all, would they be safe here?_ The only thing that kept those worries at bay for a while, was the struggle Sansa and Bran had with Rickon, when they told him the wolves couldn’t stay at Castle Black. With their Tully auburn hair disguised, the three beasts were the only giveaway left about who they really were. But Rickon wouldn’t see reason, not until Sansa threatened they would make Hodor carry him like a babe through the gate of Castle Black, if he wouldn’t get onto his horse right away.

So when their small column finally was moving, Sansa felt so tense, it almost hurt to sit on horseback, and her brothers’ bickering was a only a slight distraction from that. Bran was arguing a fur trader’s son had no reason to ride ahead, since no one he knew would be waiting for him at Castle Black, and teased their baby brother, “Or are you the half-witted son of a fur trader, brother?” Rickon truly was the Wild Wolf, as some clansmen had started to call him. _Even wilder than Arya_ , Sansa thought, with a small smile on her lips. _Or did she only think so because they hadn’t seen their sister in over two years?_ However, thinking about Arya turned out not to be a good idea to calm herself. It only started a new spiral of thoughts. _What would Jon say, if she told him Arya had escaped from King’s Landing? Would he be mad for not telling him? Would he be relieved or worried to hear Arya was roaming the Riverlands? With a stranger and a giant wolf pack at her heels?_

By the time they rode through Castle Black’s gate Sansa was so absorbed in her thoughts she didn’t realise they had arrived until her horse came to stop in the courtyard. There they were greeted by a Black Brother who seemed to be of age with Jon and Robb, a fat dark-haired man with a moon-shaped face, who introduced himself as Samwell Tarly, but everyone would call him Sam. _Tarly, as in the Tarlys of the Reach?_ Sansa was wary of him at once. She was old enough to understand joining the Night’s Watch would not necessary mean to forget all former loyalties for a man. So she watched Sam closely.

Watched him call some stable boys to take care of their horses, and another brother named Pyp, to show their ‘servants’ and escort to their quarters, before Sam announced he would take them to their quarters in the King’s Tower, where they could rest and wait until the Lord Commander’s steward would have time to greet them. _Smart_ _move._ As Sansa had suggested, she and Meera were given a room together and Jojen would share a room with Bran and Rickon again, while their two Winterfell guards posed as their father and uncle, the supposed fur traders. And to not raise any suspicion they all had their meals served in the guards’ chambers where they waited for Jon to seek them out. While Bran, Rickon and the guards dug into the food as if they had been starving the past fortnight, Sansa barely touched any of it, which  caused Meera to shoot her a worried glance. So when Artos’ men outside their door announced the Lord Commander’s steward would have come to see them, Sansa jumped at the sudden knock and Rickon, suddenly insecure himself, reached for her hand; she squeezed his reassuringly when one of their guards called to let ‘the man’ enter. However, as soon as the door opened, all his insecurity was forgotten and Rickon forcefully tugged his hand free from hers. Sansa followed him with her eyes, watching him run towards the door and jump up. _Jon_. And Bran joined their brothers in their hug right after. Yet, Sansa’s body wouldn’t move, not even when Jon’s eyes briefly met hers, before Rickon fired all his questions at their elder brother. What took him so long to get here? Could they go for a walk atop the Wall? Twice? Once to touch the clouds and once to see the lands beyond and maybe Winterfell in the south? Could he get to see the Ice Cells? Were there any prisoners there now? Wildlings maybe? Oh, and why the beard? To not freeze or to look like father? Or was it to hide any battle scars? “Slow down, Rickon! Or how else do you expect to get answers?” Bran interrupted laughing. “And don’t forget to breathe!” Jon joined in. _But why couldn’t she?_ Sansa wondered and her mind answered. _Because you lost Winterfell_. _Abandoned those poor people to their fates_. _Twice_. _To save your own skin. You ran like a coward_. _Jon’s no coward_. _He wouldn’t have run. He would have fought. Like you should have!_

“Sansa, are you alright?” _When did Jon walk up to her_? She couldn’t tell. “Yes, yes. I’m fine. I just need to send a raven. Robb and mother need to know we’re here now.” she babbled, unable to look at him for longer than a short instant. “Sam can do that.” “No!” Sansa shrieked, “No one must know we’re alive.” “Sam’s my friend. He won’t tell, you can trust him.” Jon assured, slightly frowning. “No! I’ve to send it myself.” Sansa insisted, making Jon’s frown deepen. “She’s using a code.” Bran explained, yet looking at her worried now, “In case the raven gets shot down, you know.” “Um, okay. Sure. But I actually would rather give you a hug first?” Jon looked worried now, too, “If I may…” Sansa only nodded and Jon’s arms flew around her, pulling her close. However, she couldn’t return the hug, even though she wanted to and she was glad to feel Rickon’s arms fling around both of them, hoping that would keep Jon from noticing. When both her brothers finally let go, Sansa felt awkward and ashamed. _Why was she acting so strange?_ And she felt relieved when Jon finally was done with greeting the others in the room and offered to take her to the rookery, suggesting Rickon and Bran to come along, to not raise any suspicions.

However, sending the raven hadn’t really helped Sansa to calm down, in fact in only had taken away her excuse to explain her tension. But she was glad, nobody pushed her about it, when the four of them returned to their supposed father’s chamber to give Jon an update about what had happened. Though, Sansa interrupted Rickon, when he attempted to blurt out they had had news about Arya and thankfully Bran seemed to understand this wasn’t something they should discuss in front of the guards and announced it would be time for him and Rickon to retreat to their chamber and before Rickon could object, Bran had lifted him up, carrying him through the door and Jojen and Meera followed them out, leaving an awkward silence behind in the room.

“I would like to show you something, Sansa.” Jon finally broke the silence, making Sansa frown, “Get dressed, as many furs and layers as you have. We’re going up to the top.” Jon announced, “You guards, too. I can’t be seen going up there alone with her.” As they ascended the Wall in cage, neither of them spoke again, aside from two or three comments from Jon about what they could see from here, if it weren’t still night. Sansa hated herself for being so awkward. _He’s your brother, stop being stupid_ , she told herself, but it was no use.

On top of the Wall Jon led her and the guards westwards, all four walking in silence next to each other, until they passed the last manned post half an hour later. At the next post Jon lit the fire basket the men used to stay warm during their watch, “No one can see or hear us here, you can stay here and keep yourselves warm. Lady Sansa and I have some matters to discuss in private.” Jon ordered the Winterfell guards, before he led Sansa further westwards. “So, will you tell me what’s going on with you?” he asked as they walked away from the guards, “Why you’ve been acting strange all night?” “I don’t know, Jon. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Sansa could feel the lump in her throat growing immediately. “I don’t know where to start.” she admitted after a while. “Well, how about why you have barely spoken a word to me?” Jon suggested, shooting her a side glance, “Are you mad at me?” “What!? No, never.” she looked at him puzzled, but again she had to avert her gaze right away. “Sansa, come one, you can barely look at me.” he grabbed her arm and stepped in front of her. Feeling tears well up, she  slowly admitted, “It’s just, you remind me of them. Robb and father.” and suddenly it bubbled all out of her, “Looking at you … it’s as if I would look at them and I just can’t … not after what happened. Not after failing them so miserably-”

“What do you mean?” he knitted his brows. “Maester Luwin, Rodrik, Mikken, the septon, they’re all dead. Because of me!” “No, Sansa, you listen to me!” Jon cupped her face to make her look at him, “That’s on Theon and him alone. Not you or anyone else. Just him and his damn Ironborn.” anger in his voice. “You don’t understand, Jon.” Sansa felt the tears running down her cheeks, “We knew … I knew … I knew the attack was coming. I knew they would die and I did nothing. I let them die, Jon. I could have warned them. Saved them and I did nothing.” “What in seven hells are you talking about?” “Earlier, we didn’t tell you everything. The guards can’t know this. Gods, I don’t know what they would do if they knew.”

“Then tell me now!” Jon demanded, irritated. And Sansa did, between sobs she told him everything. From how the Reeds had warned them and how she had been too stupid to understand the simplest metaphor, that ‘the Sea’ could only mean the Ironborn. How she was too afraid to warn those good men of what would happen to them, too afraid they would not believe her and would doubt her ability to lead House Stark in Robb’s absence. “And you were right in doing so, Sansa! Those men would have died either way. They either wouldn’t have believed you, or if they had, they would have been too stubborn to leave their posts.”

“Unlike me!” Sansa sobbed, and when Jon attempted to disagree, she argued, he, as her brother, wouldn’t want to see her as the coward she really was. And to prove her point, she told him, how she hadn’t even tried to fight. That she hadn’t even shot a single arrow from afar that fateful night. And what relief she had felt deep down inside of her, when Meera and Syrio had urged her to flee. How eager she had agreed and how desperate she had been to get as far away from Winterfell as possible. And how badly she had wanted to live, knowing others were dying. For them. For her.

At that Jon pulled her into a hug, kissing her forehead and stroking her back to soothe her, “Nobody blames you for saving yourself and your little brothers over saving Winterfell and its people.” “And there you’re wrong, Jon! Even I blame me.” “But that only shows how deeply you care about Winterfell and the people and how hard it was for you to leave them. And, Sansa, you had to run, to keep Bran and Rickon safe. You did what you had to. Remember, family, duty, honour. That’s your mother’s words. Yes, honour and duty are important, but family is the most important of them, family comes first.”

At that Sansa froze for moment, before she pushed Jon away, “Family comes first?” she asked with a growing frown, “You mean that?” “Yes.” “Seven hells, Jon! Then why did you leave?” her voice sounding shrill, “We’re your family! And you left! You left us! For fucking duty and your fucking honour!” she noticed Jon wincing at her swearing, but she didn’t care. She was about to start yelling, “We needed you! And you left!” _Why was she blaming Jon now all of a sudden?_ “I had to! To keep you safe.” “Rubbish, Jon! You were sick of being Winterfell’s bastard, the only stain on honourable Ned Stark’s otherwise perfectly clean reputation. You wanted to be more. Stepping out of Robb’s shadow. That’s all the reason you had and needed to leave us!” _What was wrong with her?_ “Sansa, that’s not true.” But she couldn’t stop herself, “You left and let us fall prey to Lions and Ironborn! Robb needed you, Jon! You should’ve seen him when we received that damn raven telling us about father and Arya and the massacre. Seeing him trembling in fear, it scared the hells out of me! Robb needed you! If you had been there, he wouldn’t have been afraid. If you were at his side, he would never doubted himself and his strength. I tried to give him that confidence, but I couldn’t. I’m just your stupid little sister!” “Sansa-“ She began shoving him then, “You could have told Robb to not send Theon home! You never trusted him as blindly as Robb or I did. If you would have told him, Robb would have listened!” She just couldn’t stop herself anymore. _Was she going mad?_

“Sansa, there was no other way. I had to leave!” “No, Jon, you had not to leave, you chose to! And leaving Robb wasn’t even the worst! At least he has an army and battle-hardened commanders. But what about Arya, Jon? She needed you! More than any of us. And now she’s out there. In the Riverlands. Alone!” This time, Jon caught her, before she could shove him again, “What do you mean she’s in the Riverlands!? Alone?”  he was shouting, too, now. “What do you think? She’s trying to get home, of course! What if she doesn’t know about Theon? What if she comes home now? You know, she would never surrender. She would die, like Rodrik and Mikken!” Sansa sank to her knees, “If you hadn’t left, Robb would have sent you to find her! Or would’ve sent you home to hear about Bran’s vision, not Rodrik!” “What vision?!” Jon knelt down himself and shook her, but Sansa ignored him, sobbing, “You could have been home when it happened! You could have held Winterfell! You wouldn’t have lost it … like I did! I needed you, Jon! I needed my big brother and you weren’t there… ” she started hitting him in the chest.

“But that’s just it, I’m NOT your brother!” Jon blurted out, causing Sansa to stop and stare at him in disbelief. “What the fuck, Jon!?” now she was actually getting mad at him, “We ARE your family! Night’s Watch or not! If you like it or not!” “That’s not how I meant. Of course, you are my family, Sansa. Always. But I’m not your brother, I’m-” “You know what, it’s late, I should get some sleep.” she hurried to get up. _He had made his choice_. Time to accept it, she was second eldest now. Yes, she had made some mistakes. _It won’t happen again_ , she vowed to herself when she turned to walk away. “Your cousin. Not brother.” he said, but she could barely hear him. “What did you just say?” she asked, unsure if she had imagined it.

“I’m your cousin.” he repeated when she turned to face him again, only now he wouldn’t look at her. “Ned Stark wasn’t my father. It was all a lie. To keep me safe … and all of you.” he went on with a pained expression. “But you … you look like _him_ … you’ve got the Stark look.” Sansa managed to stammer. “Because of my mother.” Jon locked eyes with her then, watching her reaction closely. “Your mother?” she asked confused. “Lyanna.” he whispered, his voice breaking, and it took her a moment to put the pieces together, but then her eyes went wide in shock. “Seven hells, Jon, your father-” “Yes.” “But that means-” “Yes, that’s why I had to leave. I took the Black and removed myself as threat to Robert and his heirs.” his head was hanging in defeat, “I thought I would …  keep you all safe this way, Sansa. I never thought the Lannisters could turn against fa-, uncle … for a different reason. If I had known, I never would’ve left … I swear! I would’ve fought with you. I would’ve protected you, Sansa.”

And this time it was her turn to pull him into a hug, “I know, Jon.” she assured and apologised for yelling at him and blaming him for no reason. She wanted to make sure he knew that, “I just couldn’t understand why you all of a sudden had decided to leave us. But then I told myself, you would want to follow the Stark tradition of younger sons, you know, manning the Wall, and all that. Like uncle Benjen. Or that you maybe missed Arya too much. But I don’t blame you for joining the Watch. I mean, I would have left for Highgarden myself soon after, and who knows if I would have ever returned North then, so even if you hadn’t left, our time together was coming to an end. So I could hardly blame you for leaving first. It seemed just a bit sudden, out of the blue then. But now I get it, I understand now why. It’s fine.” she paused before she went on, “It was just … you know, soon after you left all hell broke loose and we … we didn’t know how to stop it. And it kept getting worse and suddenly I was alone with the little ones. And had no idea what I was doing. But I hardly could tell Robb that, could I? Seeing him when that bloody raven came, it changed something. I could no longer see him as my ever so strong big brother like I had before that. I knew he was just as insecure and frightened as myself. So I had to pretend to be strong, that he wouldn’t need to worry about us … You see, pressure was building up on us, Robb and me. And Bran, smartass that he is, of course noticed, and tried to help. But that only made it worse. I didn’t want him to worry about such things, he’s after all still just a boy and so I found myself more and more wishing you wouldn’t have taken the Black. That you were with Robb, whenever I worried about him, or that you secretly would’ve followed Arya to King’s Landing so the two of you could have escaped together, so I wouldn’t need to worry about her so much, or … just that you had stayed with us at Winterfell. Knowing, you would have thought of something to fight the Ironborn or to take Winterfell back. You wouldn’t have lost the North like I did. Jon, I don’t know what had gotten into me earlier, and I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I don’t blame you at all. You’ve got to believe me, Jon!”

They both stayed silent for a while, the good kind of silent this time, the one of mutual understanding, until Jon finally whispered, “Thank you.” “What for?” “First of all, for not freaking out about my parentage.” he chuckled, “But more so for not being mad at me for joining the Watch. I had often feared you might be, after … what happened in King’s Landing.” “I could never be mad at you for that. And neither would Robb or Arya, I’m sure.” At that they smiled at each other, truly smiled, “And you should know, I couldn’t be any prouder of you. Robb chose well leaving you in charge. None of us could have done better.” “But you would have fought!” Sansa objected. “Probably, and possibly died, abandoning not only Winterfell’s people to their fates, but also Bran and Rickon. They’re alive and safe. Because of you, Sansa. So don’t you ever think again, you would have lost the North! You saved it!” he pulled her closer then und kissed her forehead again, “And the day will come, when the North will know that, too.”

For the first time in over a year Sansa felt calm and safe. _Truly safe_. And she closed her eyes, clutching to Jon to keep feeling this way as long as she could. But then all of a sudden, Jon let go, “Look, Sansa! That’s what I wanted you to see.” Jon turned her around. Sansa was stunned, staring at the most beautiful sight she had ever seen, watching the sky getting illuminated in a thousand different colours and shades, until the first beams of sunlight hit her face and Jon’s sudden outcry, “Oh, shit!” caused her to look away, up at him, “What?” “Your guards must be frozen to death by now.” he chuckled, and Sansa burst into laughter. “They better not, or else our cover is blown!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you might think Sansa a bit of a whiner in this chapter, I beg to differ. Yes, what Sansa has to suffer is no comparision to what Arya has to suffer, at least not when it comes to the bare brutality of war. 
> 
> But when Arya started of in King's Landing, she was alone. With presuming all Northerners dead, Arya had only to look after herself then. And though she befriends Gendry/Hot Pie/Lommy, and because of that starts to feel responsible for them, it's different: 1) Gendry surely doesn't need Arya to survive, not literally. 2) Hot Pie could have survived Lorch's attack without her, so he only might be stuck in Harrenhal without her help. But the kitchen was a relatively safe place there, so he could have survived there until the war is over. 3) Lommy would probably have surrendered during Lorch's attack and could actually still be alive if it hadn't been for Arya and Gendry. 4) Jenna had also managed to stay alive before her path crossed that of Arya. She doesn't really need Arya.
> 
> So until Barra shows up there was no one who actually were dependent on Arya to survive. And even with Barra, Arya is not solely responsible. Actually, now with society and the Brotherhood driving a wedge between Gendry and her, Gendry clearly feels more responsible and Arya even lets him be the one who has more responsibilty.
> 
> And if you then look at Sansa, she kind of stands alone. All of a sudden she finds herself as Lady of Winterfell, responsible for hundreds or even thousands of lives and two of them are not only her little brothers but heirs of the king in the North. That's responsibilty-wise clearly the heavier burden. Sure Sansa had advisors like Luwin or Rodrik or Syrio and Osha, and she loves them and trusts them, but they're not her friends. She's not as close with them that she would turn to them with her problems (Like Arya can with Gendry, and now with Hot Pie/Jenna as well). And though she likes Meera, she is not (yet) a close friend to Sansa. Meera is a bit like Arya, so Sansa hasn't that much in common with her, which kind of prevented them so far to become as close as Arya is with Gendry/Hot Pie/Jenna. Probably also due to Sansa being not as good as finding real friends as Arya. Until now there was only Bran she could really confide in (trust-wise) and, come on, which 17 year old would burden their 12/13 year old sibling, who still looks up to them for guidance, with their fears and worries. 
> 
> So Sansa kept those things to herself and the worries and sorrows had been piling up inside of her, eating away at her (while Arya ever since King's Landing had Gendry to blow off her steam). And then when Sansa suddenly is (about to be) reunited with Jon, she freaks. Suddenly there is someone again, that she looks up to for guidance, that she sees as her superior. So it is hard to admit to that person that she had failed in the task she was given by Robb. And with Jon being said to be so alike Ned, it must feel almost as awful as if she had to admit her failure to Ned Stark himself. But also, Jon, like Robb and her, knows what it feels like to want to spare younger siblings the bloody truth about bad things and also knows the burden Ned Stark had put onto his children's shoulders (especially the elder ones), who ever since try to up-live to Ned Stark's example/high standards. That is why Sansa then loses it, when she finally is allowed to open up to someone and blows off her steam on Jon.

**Author's Note:**

> WHEN WILL THE NEXT UPDATE COME?
> 
> Probably some time around June to August 2019. So, no, this story is not forgotten or abandoned, the outline for this story is nearly complete.
> 
> But I apologise to you my dear readership for not updating in such a long time. Which was mainly because I wanted to finish my other work ("That's Not Me") first, before I continue this one. Since unlike in this story, there I focussed mainly on the drama between the characters and most of the storylines/story arcs are made up by myself. So I could write it quicker and easier. Whereas, for this I actually need to do research, reread the books/rewatch the show, to weave my story halfway logically into the other events that happen in canon. Which is a bit tricky with English not being my first language, it takes me a lot of time to write what's happening halfway interestingly. 
> 
> YOUR OPINION
> 
> Feel free to comment your opinion about this story. But remember, English is not my first language and this story is my first attempt ever on creative writing (I never had any training/lessons). So, please keep your criticism constructive and fair and write in English, so I and your fellow readers can understand!


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